Archive of Our Own

Teru only picked at his dinner Saturday night, and it took Reigen until he was putting the dishes in the dishwasher for him to notice that the kid’s plate had barely been touched.

Reigen frowned.

Teru not eating was… Well, it wasn’t like it had never happened before, but it had been a while. A dip in his appetite usually came the day directly after a Claw attack. Not three weeks later.

Reigen hesitated before he could follow through with the motion of throwing out the now soggy noodles. Maybe Teru just hadn’t liked it. It was possible that Reigen was so used to his own terrible cooking that he hadn’t realized he’d made something inedible.

It had tasted just fine to him, but…? He peeked around the kitchenette for judging eyes and then gave the bowl a sniff.

No, Teru’s share smelled fine too.

Shit, was something wrong then? Concern flared hot and tight in his chest at the thought, followed by an overwhelming sinking sensation.

Did Teru know?

He’d say something if he did, wouldn’t he? Teru wasn’t good with discreet. The kid didn’t have a subtle bone in his body, so if he had an inkling that he was still on Claw’s radar, there was no way he’d be able to keep that to himself. And no reason to, besides.

Unless he was upset with Reigen for not being honest with him.

Teru hadn’t seemed troubled at dinner. Just quiet.

Reigen was probably way overthinking this.

“Hey, Teru?”

Reigen leaned on the doorframe to the kitchen, feigning a casual air. His foster child knelt at the coffee table, his winter break homework packet in front of him. It had been all day. Reigen had no idea if Teru had always been the type of kid to do his homework the day it was assigned, or if constantly being too hurt or tired from Claw attacks had forced him into a habit of doing his schoolwork while he still could. He was honestly too scared of the answer to ask.

Teru didn’t appear to be doing any work at the moment though. He had his cheek in hand, eyes glazed over and his pencil unmoving over the paper.

“Teru.”

“Hm?” Teru blinked rapidly and looked up to Reigen, somehow startled by his presence.

“You okay there?”

“Oh. Mm, I’m okay. My brain won’t… do this anymore.” He gestured vaguely at the papers.

Reigen had to chuckle at that. “You’ve been doing homework all day. It’s school vacation. Give your brain a minute to cool down.”

Teru’s shoulders slumped a little and he rubbed at his eyes.

“I wanted it to be all done,” he mumbled, the words a hint whinier than usual. When he dropped his hands to his lap, he looked much more tired than he had just a moment before.

“It’ll still be there when you get up tomorrow. If you’re that wiped out, why don’t you head to bed early?”

Reigen had a decent work ethic, but the concept of a nine-year-old pushing himself so hard to get schoolwork done was difficult for him to grasp. Kid Reigen had been a procrastinator.

It was a bit of a surprise when Teru looked down at his packet a minute more and then nodded.

“Okay.”

Not arguing about an early bedtime? Not exactly a rare occurrence.

Not finishing his homework and not eating dinner on top of that? Red flags all over the place.

Reigen watched Teru clean off the table and head to the bathroom with a sense of unease sinking into his bones. He tried to convince himself that there didn’t necessarily have to be something terribly wrong. Maybe Teru was burnt out from the semester. Maybe he was honest to goodness just tired.

But he had been quiet all day, and the last time Teru had been quiet for an extended period, the child had ended up exhausted and hysterical and Reigen had been worried out of his mind. Reigen would like to avoid another incident like that if he could.

Reigen sighed and ran his hands over his face. Things were never as simple as being tired when it came to Teru.

He’d keep an eye on him.

And he did. Reigen watched Teru like a hawk while the boy got ready for bed. While he curled up in bed and texted Mob and yawned. Reigen watched for Teru’s tells. For signs of anxiety or stress. For fidgeting and lip biting and wringing his sleeves out of shape.

There was nothing.

Damnit, maybe he was just tired and Reigen was conditioned to make mountains out of molehills at this point. Well who the hell could blame him?

“What?”                                                                                           

Reigen jolted, covering up his embarrassment at being caught staring by spinning in place to fiddle with the TV remote.

“Did you want to watch something?” he said in a rush.

Teru gave him a funny look, interrupted by another yawn. He shrugged.

“Want me to turn out the lights then? I can do some work on my computer,” Reigen offered.

Teru nodded.

“Alright. Goodnight,” Reigen said, a bit at a loss. Jeez, the kid didn’t even want to watch a movie? He always wanted to watch a movie.

“Mm, night,” Teru whispered back, already snuggling into the mattress. He gave a little huff and closed his eyes, nosing into his pillow.

Reigen had to rip his gaze away from his foster child and force himself to go switch off the main lights. Sometimes Teru seemed to get bigger. When he said something daring, or stood straight and proud and confident in front of a client, it was like he stretched taller before Reigen’s very eyes. A reminder that some day Teru was going to be so much more than just a little kid.

Right now he looked tiny. A bundle of blankets with a tuft of blond hair.

It made Reigen’s chest cramp, and he slipped through the dark room to his desk. He jiggled the mouse with more force than necessary and blinked against the light of the screen coming to life. A familiar frustration coursed through his veins. He popped open MobBook and scrolled mindlessly, a hopeless attempt to drown out the thoughts that came with increasing frequency these days.

He needed to knock it off. He didn’t have the money. The space. Teru wasn’t even remotely ready, and neither was he. What on earth was he doing deluding himself? He needed letters of recommendation for shit like that and who the hell was going to write them?

Reigen wasted time until his eyes hurt, and then longer. Pulled up the police logs. Toyed with Officer Daigo’s business card until the corners were worn. At midnight Reigen dragged his ass out of his chair, wincing at the pins and needles that prickled up and down his legs.

He shuffled through the room, blind, and fumbled to put on his pajamas in the dark. After having to readjust his sweatshirt twice, he carefully crawled into bed.

Teru must have been exhausted because Reigen wasn’t careful enough and he definitely kneed the poor kid once or twice, yet Teru didn’t so much as twitch. The only sign that Teru noticed the disturbance was a light hitch in his breathing. He gave a barely audible hum when Reigen let his head thump onto his pillow, and then reached out until his knuckles grazed Reigen’s ribs.

His hand stayed there and Teru settled.

Reigen took a long breath in. Let it out until his lungs ached.

Tomorrow was another day. He could talk to Teru tomorrow and make sure there was nothing the kid was worrying himself over that could be avoided.

Reigen covered his eyes with his arm and sucked in another slow breath. All he had to do was sleep now.

Tomorrow could wait.

Was it technically tomorrow if Reigen woke up in the middle of the night?

Reigen stirred, unsure of what had jarred him out of his sleep. He groaned and rolled over. If his asshole neighbor was back at it, he was going to sick the building manager on him. God, why was his heart beating so loud?

“-gen?”

Reigen picked his head up, squinting into the dimly lit apartment with bleary eyes.

“Hmuh?”

“Reigen!”

Reigen was out of bed before he even registered where he was going. By the time his feet carried him to where the voice was coming from, Reigen understood three things:

One, the bed was empty.

Two, the bathroom’s motion sensor nightlight was on.

And most importantly, that was Teru’s “I need you right now” voice, and if that didn’t get Reigen hurrying, the sharp sob that followed it sure would have.

Reigen slapped on the bathroom light, heart in his throat.

What was wrong? What was happening? Was Claw here? He hadn’t heard anything, but they could be quiet. Teru said they could make him be quiet, his mother hadn’t even heard-

“Oh.”

His heart chilled, slipping from his throat down to his toes.

Teru knelt on the floor in front of the toilet, pale as a sheet and shaking. He looked up to Reigen desperately, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Teru was sick.

Just… sick.

Huh. That was… gross. And not good. Reigen had always been a sympathetic barfer. The sight of someone hunched in front of a toilet already set his stomach churning. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

Oh jeez, anything but this. Please.

“Reigen…” Teru whined, staring up at him like he could snap his fingers and fix this.

“Ah, have you thrown up yet?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes and he missed it.

Teru hiccupped, his chest spasming.

“No,” he said around his tears.

Reigen grimaced and forced himself to take a step into the bathroom. He shouldn’t run away from this. There was nothing he was going to be able to do here, but Teru wanted him. Had called him for help. He’d been thinking about adoption before bed again, right? This was like, the ultimate dad test.

Oh god, he shouldn’t be having thoughts like that. That was so frightening.

Teru swayed and gripped the rim of the toilet with white knuckles.

“Don’t- Shit, that’s nasty. Don’t touch that. We don’t clean enough for that. Just… Don’t puke for a second, okay?” Reigen grabbed a handful of tissues off the edge of the sink and quickly swiped them around the top of the toilet bowl, holding his breath.

He wet another handful in the sink and wiped Teru’s hands, studiously not looking anywhere else. Teru’s hands were small in his, clammy and trembling and so, so hot.

God damnit.

No appetite, no energy, and a foggy head? That had sick written all over it and Reigen missed it like an idiot.

“Reigen, I don’t feel good,” Teru cried softly, leaning his forehead back onto his arm for support.

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Reigen clicked his tongue and sat against the wall. His hand hesitated in the air before landing gently on Teru’s back. His pajamas were soaked with sweat, plastered to his shivering frame. The heat Teru was throwing off made the cool tile beneath them feel like ice.

“My cooking do this to you?” he joked halfheartedly. This probably wasn’t food poisoning, or else Reigen would be feeling it too, right? He swore he cooked that chicken all the way through.

Teru didn’t grace him with an answer.

“Not funny I know, kid. Sorry.”

Reigen put his knees up and laid his free arm across them. He hoped they wouldn’t be here long; he was tired and the bathroom was a bit cramped with them both on the floor like this. His boney butt only tolerated so much floor sitting these days.

Teru coughed, and it sent Reigen on high alert.

“Hey, if you’re going to barf aim for the toilet, okay?” He eyed Teru warily, but the child only sniffed, followed by a shudder that vibrated up Reigen’s arm.

He whined then, and Reigen hated the spike of pain in his heart that came from hearing such a sound. Reigen had seen Teru hurt and scared and miserable enough for a lifetime. Each new event tore at Reigen’s self-control. Ripped big, gaping holes in his chest.

Reigen hadn’t cracked in front of Teru yet, and if he got his way, he never would.

His hand traced large, slow circles between Teru’s shoulder blades. The kid was a mess of shaky gasps, muscles tight and trembling along with him. His toes curled together.

Bracing himself against a sudden thought and the urge to punch himself in the face, Reigen grimaced and scooted himself away from the back wall and over to the cabinet so that he could see Teru’s face.

“Hey, Teru… Hey, listen kid. I know I said I didn’t do body fluids and to keep your kid germs to yourself, but you know I was joking, right? If you need to throw up, throw up.”

Teru slowly peeled his face out of his elbow and looked up at him. His eyes were shining with tears, red rimmed and fever bright. His hair was stuck up off his forehead, pushed away from his forehead by his arm and damp with sweat.

He pressed his lips together and swallowed. It looked like it took a lot of effort. His next breath was a loud one, more a sob than anything else.

“I don’t want to,” Teru said, his voice small and scared.

“I know. No one likes throwing up, but you’ll probably feel better just getting it out.”

Reigen could not believe he was encouraging someone to puke in front of him.

Fuck, he really did love Teru.

Teru shook his head, mouth clamped shut tight, but the motion was too much. He stilled, looking dizzy. His foster son’s breathing sped up a moment later, his young face going a shade paler than Reigen imagined was possible. Wide, wet eyes filled with dread.

Reigen scrambled to his knees, gently guiding Teru over the toilet.

“Just get it over with, okay? And then we can go back to bed,” he said, leaning as far back as he could while still keeping Teru upright.

Teru hunched over the bowl, panicked breaths nearing hyperventilation. His sobs caught on a series of coughs. Reigen closed his eyes just in time. Teru heaved, and Reigen had to admit that only listening was really no better than seeing it.

“You’re okay. You’re good, Teru. You’re okay…” Reigen muttered like a mantra while Teru gagged a second time.

His own stomach flip flopped, but he shoved the feeling down angrily. He wasn’t the one who was miserable here.

Teru slumped, hanging onto the edge of the toilet and resting his cheek on it. He looked wrecked.

“Feeling any better?” Reigen ventured. He rubbed his hand over Teru’s knee.

Teru gave a miniscule shrug.

When his shaking died down a bit, Reigen rose up to snatch up a paper cup from the sink and fill it so that Teru could rinse his mouth.

The toilet flushed and Reigen felt a weird swell of pride. He’d done it. Weathered a child barfing in his bathroom without calling it quits or throwing up himself.

Teru was sick, but this was a success story.

“Why don’t you brush your teeth real quick and we can go lie down? Maybe get some different pajamas? We can grab something lighter; you’re sweating buckets.”

Teru shivered.

“I’m cold,” he cried softly.

Right. Fever. Everything was backwards. Did Reigen have a thermometer? He should. Somewhere.

“Alright, well let’s get you changed anyway. Here.” Reigen crouched beside him and helped lever Teru to his feet slowly. He was alarmingly unsteady, and Reigen had to lurch to catch him under the arms when his knees refused to hold his weight.

They got two steps toward the door when Teru stopped, a high noise of panic catching in his throat.

Reigen looked down at him.

“Are you going to throw up again?”

Teru stared at the wall and gripped at Reigen’s sleeve like he was drowning. And then he was pushing away from Reigen and collapsing back to his knees in front of the toilet. There wasn’t much left to come up besides water at this point, and it left Teru trembling like a leaf.

“Woah, woah calm down. Hey, shh…” Reigen flushed again and threaded his fingers through the hair at the nape of Teru’s neck. “Wow, trying to throw up your socks, okay. You’re okay.”

Teru gasped, barely holding himself up on the rim of the toilet. His tears were quiet this time, dripping off his chin and onto his pajama pants.

He shivered so hard his teeth chattered, and worry started to grow when Teru scrambled upright only to dry heave.

“Jesus, Teru.”

Reigen had gotten sick when he was a kid. He had a couple time-blurred memories of feeling hot and cold and confused at school, followed by puking in a wastebasket in the nurse’s office. He had been miserable and nauseous, and his mother had been forced to take him home to rest. Books, movies, and popsicles. A churning stomach. Being quickly bored.

Reigen couldn’t recall ever being quite this sick.

Was Teru sick? This wasn’t like… appendicitis or something, right?

Teru curled over his knees and let his head tap weakly onto the tile, arms wrapped around his stomach. Shivers rippled through him in waves.

“Hang tight, Teru. I’ll be right back,” Reigen said in a rush. He climbed to his feet and yanked open the one small closet on the wall opposite the bathroom. Dug to the very back and bundled the rolls of cloth under his arm. Darted to the bedside table to turn on the light. Grabbed his cell phone.

He flipped it open and hissed.

Four twenty-two in the morning. Fantastic.

He jammed the phone in his pocket and tossed most of the sheets onto the couch, keeping one item with him.

“Hey, here you go. Can you sit up for a second?” Reigen knelt before Teru and smoothed a hand over his back.

“No,” Teru hiccupped, curling tighter.

“Okay. That’s fine. This works too.” Reigen draped Teru in his old bathrobe, the plush red swallowing the child whole. “Can you put your arms in the sleeves? You’ll be warmer. There you go…”

Teru snaked one shaking arm at a time through the too-big sleeves, curling up tighter again when he was done. His back heaved like the small motion had taken more effort than he had to give.

Reigen’s brow furrowed. He raked his fingers up and down Teru’s back.

It was too early to call the Kageyamas. This wasn’t… This wasn’t an emergency, even if Reigen had no idea how to care for a sick kid. How high of a fever was too high? How many times could someone throw up before it was too many? Reigen knew rest and fluids, but there had to be more to it than that. Did Teru need medicine?

Shit, he was probably going to have to call Teru’s doctor. A bit of reluctance nagged at him. The man didn’t seem to be Reigen’s biggest fan, and from a medical standpoint, Reigen couldn’t blame him. All he’d done since he got Teru was call and report injuries. Ask for advice on prematurely knocked out teeth. For advice on burn creams. On cracked ribs.

It was difficult to explain to normal people what Claw was, and Reigen wasn’t entirely sure the man believed him.

Teru shuddered beneath his hand, the thick bathrobe not enough to stave off his chills.

“Come on, kid, the floor is freezing. Come up. You got it,” Reigen coached, scooting closer and pulling Teru off the tile and halfway into his lap.

The child was boneless, burning forehead pressed to Reigen’s leg. His fingers hooked weakly into the fleece of Reigen’s pajama pants.

“Let me know if you’re going to barf again, okay? No throwing up on me. That’s the only rule.”

Bless Teru, he actually nodded.

Reigen let his head tilt back and thump into the wall. His ass hurt already and the chill of the tile was creeping up through his pants. His back was going to be pissed at him in the morning. Was it morning? No, four-thirty was an ungodly hour. Still dark. Still night.

Reigen stayed on the bathroom floor until the apartment beyond took on a greyish hue.

“Hey… Teru are you awake? Kid, I’m going to get up. We need to get you in bed. You haven’t thrown up in-“ Reigen checked the time on his phone. “Two hours. We might be through the worst of it.”

Teru blinked glazed, half lidded eyes at the cabinet. He didn’t respond.

“Alright. Cool. I’m going to throw out my back.” Reigen extricated himself from under his foster child and stretched, joints cracking and popping. “Ugh.”

Teru had curled up on the bathmat.

Alright. He would do this. Teru was only like. Sixty pounds. He’d carried Teru a handful of times now. Uh, piggybacked him. And not when he was… dead weight. Somehow, he had the feeling this was going to be completely different.

“Help me out, buddy. I’m trying here.” Reigen hooked his hands under Teru’s arms and heaved him upwards as carefully as he could.

Teru whined, but uncurled enough to snuggle into him. His grip was loose, but that was better than nothing.

Lift with your legs, you jackass.

Reigen stood with a bit of huffing and readjusted his grip. How on earth had Saburo been walking around with Mob on his hip? He’d carried a third grader around in one arm like he was nothing. Okay, so Teru likely had seven to ten pounds on Mob. And Saburo had probably been tossing his kids around for a decade and building up all those dad muscles Reigen simply didn’t have yet.

Yet.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Reigen paused in the middle of the living room. He eyed the couch, still unmade with a pile of sheets on it. Looked to the bed, all cozy and soft and ugh…

He put Teru down on the bed.

By the time Teru woke up Reigen was ready to crash. He had made up the couch, put a trash bag in the wastepaper bin he usually kept by his desk and put it next to the bed, found the thermometer, and thoroughly and completely learned his lesson to never again look on the internet for medical advice.

Fifteen minutes online and he’d been half convinced that Teru had meningitis. That had resulted in a mindless whirlwind of a panic that sapped him of all his braincells and made him call the Kageyamas instead of the logical choice of, you know, Teru’s pediatrician.

“It’s probably just a belly bug,” Mayuko had said over the line, her voice tinged with both sympathy and amusement. “It’s that time of year. It just hits some kids harder than others. I’m honestly surprised it took him this long to get sick. If he can’t keep water down or his fever gets to 103, take him to the doctor, but otherwise it’s probably nothing to worry about.”

Reigen didn’t really know what she meant by expecting Teru to get sick earlier, and he didn’t ask. He thanked the woman politely and hung up, dropping onto the couch in relief.

He made himself coffee and waited for it to kick in, watching the news until Teru finally stirred around noon.

Teru whined, rubbing at his face. The sleeves of Reigen’s bathrobe fell to his elbows, bunching up and getting stuck in the layers of blankets Reigen had heaped on top of him.

“How do you feel?” Reigen asked, pushing himself to his feet and shuffling over.

Teru squirmed, huffing when he couldn’t get the sheets out from where they’d twisted beneath him. He gave up and blinked up at Reigen, a sweaty, pitiful sight.

“S’hot.”

“Yeah, you’re drenched. Wow. Here.” The comforter got peeled back and Reigen fixed the sheets. “Better?”

“Mm.”

It was strange to see Teru so lethargic. Even when he was at his worst, the kid always seemed to be bouncing around, full of that manic energy that came from being overtired. And he’d been so hyper since Claw… Since he thought Claw was gone that this was jarring.

“Think you can hang out a minute while we take your temperature? Or are you feeling barfy again?” Reigen asked, dearly hoping that five times had done the trick and he was past that stage.

“My belly hurts,” he mumbled, face crumpling.

God, kids were vague.

“Hurts how? Like a sharp pain, or you’re just nauseous, or crampy from throwing up?” Reigen dug for more info. Mayuko had said he was probably fine, but no appetite, fever, and vomiting with sharp stomach pain meant burst appendix. And Teru still had his. Reigen had combed through his file extensively while he slept.

Teru looked like he was thinking hard.

“Crampy.”

Thank god.

“Sorry, that’ll hopefully go away soon.” Reigen handed Teru the thermometer. “Under your tongue, okay?”

He almost snorted at the offended look he received.

“I know. I’m almost ten.”

Reigen did let himself smile at that. Sass was good. Sass meant the kid had his wits back. He perched on the edge of the bed by Teru’s hip and pretended to watch the TV while they waited.

The thermometer beeped and Teru grabbed it before Reigen could, rubbing at his eyes and squinting at the tiny numbers.

“What’cha got?” Reigen hummed.

“102.4,” Teru said, passing it over.

“Yikes. That’s uh…” High, but not dangerous. “You’re roasting, huh?”

As if to prove him wrong, Teru gave a violent shiver and groped around for the comforter. Reigen pulled the heavy blanket back over him and two minutes later Teru was kicking it back off again.

“I hate being sick,” he groaned.

Reigen ran his fingers through Teru’s hair, wishing he would do more. It never seemed like he could do anything for this kid. All he did was fumble around for bullshit advice to spew, and teach him some shitty basic self-defense that did almost nothing against psychic powers, and patch Teru up after he failed to stop Claw from hurting him again.

And Teru hung onto every word, staring up at him like Reigen hung the moon just for him.

It was almost disturbing at times, how easy it was to impress Teru. Really made Reigen want to strangle a certain someone.

“There’s water for you on the side table. And some crackers, if you feel up to it. Do you want a movie or a book or something?” Reigen held back a yawn. He needed another cup of coffee if he was going to make it through the day.

Teru turned his head and looked at the plate, his mouth puckering when he looked away.

“No.”

“Okay,” Reigen said with a sigh. He patted one of Teru’s limp hands and got up. “I have to email some clients and reschedule, but I’ll be right there at the desk if you need me.”

“It’s Sunday,” Teru murmured in confusion, his gaze trailing after Reigen.

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’re going to magically be back to normal tomorrow. Do you?”

Reigen’s heart ached at the guilt that etched itself onto his foster son’s face. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for once and let Teru relax? He was always saying too much and stressing the kid out needlessly.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem, Teru. Really. Thursday is supposed to be slow, so I can just ask them to wait a few days. You just concentrate on feeling better.”

Teru hummed softly and turned his gaze to the blankets.

Damnit.

Teru spent the afternoon in and out of a fevered haze. He napped and tossed and turned, only sitting up enough to sip on his water and then drop back to the bed like he’d run a marathon.

It would be more concerning if the number of crackers on his plate weren’t steadily, if very slowly, decreasing.

And he hadn’t thrown up again.

Reigen had a brief moment of anxiety around three when Teru inched his way out of bed and wobbled towards the bathroom, but he’d closed the door behind him and come back out a minute later, crawling back under the blankets like he was made of glass.

He was eating. He was drinking. He was going to the bathroom.

Not dying. Just sick.

Reigen microwaved himself some terrible frozen dinner and went to offer Teru a small bowl of plain rice, but the child was out cold again, still wrapped in Reigen’s bathrobe. It was old, though Reigen had rarely worn it. He wasn’t really the bathrobe type. He couldn’t even remember who had given it to him. It must have been years ago. There had been no reason to keep it, but now Reigen was glad he had.

Teru could keep it.

Reigen stood there, the bowl of rice slowly growing cold in his hands. His eyes traced a path over Teru’s relaxed face. Over the eyelashes dusting his flushed cheeks, still round when the rest of him was starting to stretch out. A thin, gangly little spitfire of a kid.

He was so good.

Teru deserved better than Reigen. Deserved someone who had a clue what they were doing and hadn’t agreed to take in a kid for stupid, selfish reasons. Deserved someone who could keep him safe for real.

The problem was that if such a person did appear, Reigen was going to have to let him go.

And how could he bear to do that?

Torn, Reigen returned to the kitchen. He put the bowl in the fridge and leaned against the door, covering his face in his hands. He was getting so far ahead of himself. Claw was… Claw was still the biggest problem here.

Was he doing the right thing by not telling Teru? Was letting him live in ignorance better? He was happier now, sure, but what happened if that backfired? What happened if Claw caught them off guard and Teru was taken because Reigen was an idiot and let him think he wasn’t in danger anymore. Fuck, he had to tell him. He had to. But not- Not now. Not when he was sick and feverish and already miserable.

Reigen stared up at the ceiling and beat himself up for a long time.

Unsteady footsteps shook him from his agonizing.

“Teru? You’re up,” Reigen said, surprised to see Teru making his way into the kitchenette.

He was a mess, eyes barely open and his hair plastered to the side of his face. Reigen should really get him in the shower soon.

Teru didn’t stop until his face was burrowed into Reigen’s sweatshirt. He leaned into him and hummed.

“I’m hungry.”

The words were quiet, muffled even further by the fact that he was speaking directly into Reigen’s chest.

“You feel up for eating?” Well that was a good sign.

“I think so.” Teru turned his face up and looked at Reigen. His face had regained some healthy color and his eyes didn’t look so fevered anymore. Sleeping the day away had done him a world of good.

Maybe this was one of those twenty-four-hour bugs. That would be a relief.

“I made some rice for you. I can heat that up. Sound good?”

“Yeah.”

Reigen squeezed Teru’s shoulder and turned him around. “Head over to the couch and get settled. We can do dinner and a movie. You want something to drink, or do you want to just grab your water?”

He wasn’t surprised when Teru asked for strawberry milk. The Kageyamas had informed him that it was both Teru and Mob’s comfort drink of choice. Reigen had been stocking up on it for a while now, his foster son quickly going through bottles of it when he was upset.

Teru lounged on the couch and took his tiny dinner in his hands. He nibbled at the rice gingerly, but Reigen had to tell him to slow down on the milk. He needed his fluids and all, but he shouldn’t overdo it. Teru slowed down to little sips, pressed into Reigen’s side.

“We’ll take your temperature again before bed and if you’re still doing okay, maybe you can take a shower. I should change the sheets on the bed,” Reigen said over the movie track. He put his hand on Teru’s forehead and pushed back the hair that had dried in place. “You feel a lot cooler.”

“Okay,” Teru said, sleepy and full to the brim with trust.

It almost hurt.

Teru managed half the rice and most of the milk before his stomach admitted defeat. It wasn’t much, but after no dinner the night before and only crackers all day, it was something. Reigen hoped it would tide him over for the night and he could eat a real meal in the morning.

A quick bath and teeth brushing later, Teru was snuggled back into bed with his fever down to a no longer alarming 100.2.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch, okay?” Reigen said with a flap of his hand in the direction of the sheet covered loveseat. “Get some rest and feel better in the morning.”

He gave Teru’s hand a soft squeeze and retreated when the child’s eyes fluttered shut.

Thank god. Reigen was burnt out and the coffee had long since worn off. The loveseat was in no way big enough for him to lay out on, but the other option was Teru’s futon, and that was packed up in the closet and he didn’t want to go through all the trouble of setting it up.

He just wanted to sleep.

Reigen kicked his legs up over the arm of the couch and threw his arm over his eyes. He was doing this. Doing that tough parent work and not entirely losing his mind.

He was just starting to nod off when a whine broke through the fog of near-sleep. A rustle of blankets and a second, louder whine followed.

“Teru? You okay?” Reigen asked. He prayed the answer was yes.

His answer was a sharp breath and a broken little sob.

So much for sleeping.

Reigen was at the bedside in a heartbeat.

“What’s the matter?” He crouched and turned the lamp back on, illuminating Teru’s pained face.

“My belly hurts,” Teru cried, and though the words were the same as this morning, the way he said them had Reigen thinking this was completely different. He was restless, small hands twisting at his pajama shirt over his stomach. A tear tracked towards his ear.

“Okay, okay, dinner was probably a bad idea. My fault,” Reigen muttered to himself, rubbing his hand over Teru’s arm. “Do you think you’re going to throw up?”

Teru closed his eyes and laid both his arms over them, blocking out the world. A sob ripped out of him and he bit his lip. He looked like he was trying to work himself up to reply when he suddenly bolted upright, gagging.

“Oh shit.” Reigen had the waste bin in his lap the next second, his other hand keeping Teru from tipping out of the bed.

He made it just in time to see dinner in reverse. To Reigen’s credit, he was so worried that he couldn’t even remember to be grossed out.

“It’s okay. Deep breaths, you’ve got this-” Reigen was aware that his mouth was moving, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Teru was coughing so hard Reigen was suddenly and acutely worried he was going to agitate his newly healed ribs. That was the last thing he needed.

Another round of vomiting followed the coughing, and Teru let go of the basket with one hand to dig his shaking fingers into his hair.

“Hey, no,” Reigen said in alarm when he saw Teru pull. He tangled his hand around Teru’s and eased it away, holding tight. “You’re not going to make yourself feel any better doing that.”

Teru held back tighter than was probably possible for a regular kid and Reigen muscled through it. He was burning up again. What the hell? He’d seemed so much better an hour ago. Was this normal?

They rode it out for another few minutes, before Reigen’s own stomach caught up with him.

“Can we head to the bathroom? Let’s- Uh, let’s get rid of this, please?” he suggested, trying not to breathe too deeply.

Teru wailed, but clambered out of bed with him and managed to get to the toilet before heaving again.

“You barely had anything. How can a kid throw up this much?”

“My stomach hurts-“

Reigen cursed and set the nasty trash bin in the sink, rushing to rub his kid’s back. He’d do anything to stop Teru from hurting. He hated this and Teru clearly hated this, and there was nothing Reigen could do-

Teru was terribly pale again and the chills were back with a vengeance.

“Have you been sick like this before?” Reigen asked helplessly. Was this just a Teru thing?

“I don’t know,” Teru sobbed. He coughed again and spit into the bowl before lowering himself down to the bathmat. “I think- I think I got really sick in kindergarten.” He had to take a moment to calm down his stuttering breaths. “Mom- My mom said I did. I think I threw up in- in the car. She was mad, but she let me-“

Teru broke off and didn’t say any more, too worked up to continue.

Yeah, if Reigen ever met the Hanazawas he was going to jail.

Teru’s hand snaked up into his hair and Reigen intercepted it. Held on and rubbed his thumb over Teru’s knuckles. Teru gazed up at him through a sheen of tears.

“If you’re still feeling this bad in a few hours, I’m calling the doctor,” Reigen announced both for Teru’s sake and his own. “And I don’t care if you throw up in the car.”

Teru seemed too busy trying to hold down another wave of nausea to say anything on the matter.

When he did speak again, his words reached right into Reigen’s chest and squeezed at his heart.

“I love you.”

Yeah. Hanazawa Teruki was going to be the death of him.

Teru very nearly convinced Reigen to let him sleep in the bathtub that night. It was only the fact that the wall of the tub felt freezing even to Reigen that stopped him. It must have been ice to Teru’s fevered skin.

“No, come on. You’re going to be cold again in a minute and you’re going to regret this,” Reigen said, his words dripping with weariness. “Bed. Let’s go. The barf bucket’s all cleaned out.”

Teru glared halfheartedly up at him in a sad attempt at arguing.

“Teru. It’s two thirty in the morning.”

“I’m dead. Just leave me here.”

“Morbid humor means you’re feeling good enough to be a pain. Up."

Being back in the bathroom at six fifteen felt different.

Reigen had pulled all nighters in college. Had worked himself through the night on paperwork and research to open his business. Had nights where Teru slept in fitful spurts and Reigen stayed up all night to watch for nightmares.

This was different.

Reigen had slept only an hour and a half in the last twenty-four hours, and that might have been worse than not sleeping at all.

He sat beside Teru for what felt like the hundredth time, half asleep against the cabinet as Teru nodded off on the toilet rim. Once in a while he coughed and they made sure he was aimed in the right direction, though there hadn’t been anything but water for him to throw up for some time.

The doctor’s office opened at eight. All they had to do was hold out until they could get Teru an appointment.

Another round of dry heaving at seven left Teru too tried to even cry about it. He laid his head down on a towel on the floor and stared into space, chest spasming.

One more hour.

Reigen didn’t think he had it in him to fall asleep when Teru was so miserable, but the next thing he knew was his phone’s shrill ringtone echoing in the small space.

It was nine thirty, and someone was calling him.

Reigen flipped the cell phone open, frantic to stop the noise for the sake of his own growing headache and Teru’s violent cringing.

“Moshi moshi, this is Reigen,” he croaked.

“Reigen? Is everything alright? You sound awful. Did Teruki get you sick too?” Kageyama Mayuko’s voice was music to his ears. Reigen groaned and dragged himself to his feet.

“Mm, no. Hang on a second.” He looked down to Teru, but the kid was already falling back to sleep. Reigen turned off the bathroom light and stumbled out to the kitchen. He turned the coffee machine on and did everything he could not to see his reflection anywhere. “Sorry. Teru’s asleep in the bathroom. We were up all night.”

Mayuko clucked in sympathy. “Poor thing. I just wanted to check in and make sure you were doing alright. Sounds like maybe not?”

“Maybe not. I dunno. I thought he barfed himself out yesterday, because he seemed pretty okay last night. Was up and asking for dinner and everything. Everything went to shit as soon as we tried to go to bed and he’s been up every hour or so since.”

A long sigh sounded down the line. “He’s one of those kids, huh? That’s tough. Some kids only get sick at night, I swear. Ritsu’s like that. Shige, on the other hand? He’ll sleep through the night when he’s sick, but god forbid he ever make it to the toilet. He’s thrown up on Saburo and I more times than I could count. On Ritsu even.” She laughed, and Reigen withheld a shudder of disgust.

“Teru has at least gotten it in a bucket every time. Small miracles, I guess.” He dragged a hand down his face.

“That’s more than a small miracle when it comes to sick kids. How’re you holding up? You sound tired.”

Reigen considered telling her he was fine. That he totally had this handled and having one sick kid was not a big deal. Mayuko had two after all. Chances were they’d shared germs and been sick at the same time. And Teru was sleeping right now. Reigen could do this.

He swallowed thickly.

“I think I need some help."

“Oh, honey you look exhausted.”

Reigen was twenty-four years old. He did not need to be doted on and called honey.

He might have appreciated the novelty of it though.

“Shh, I’m trying not to make Teru feel worse than he already does about it,” he whispered, letting Mayuko in and closing the door quickly behind her. It was snowing again.

Reigen couldn’t remember the last time it snowed so much in December.

Mayuko shuffled off her shoes, plastic bags crinkling.

“Alright. Where’s my patient?” she asked, striding into the room like a woman on a mission.

“The bathroom. He was asleep, but he woke up ten minutes ago dry heaving again. He’s going to hurt himself if he keeps going like this, but I can’t get him to eat anything. It’s better to at least have something to throw up, right?” Reigen hurried after her.

“You’re right. Let’s see what I can do. Get the bed set back up, he’s not going to get any real rest on the floor,” she instructed. “Lots of pillows. He won’t get so nauseous if he’s upright.”

Reigen did what she said and got out of the way, totally bewildered as Teru bent to her iron will.

“Here you go, sweetheart. Back in bed. No, no, up here, Teruki. There you are. Doesn’t that feel better?”

Teru stared at her, as confused as his foster father. His eyes were glazed over with fever and puffy from crying, but he exuded nothing but gratitude. He sunk into the pillows, drained.

Mayuko put a big bowl in his lap and kissed him on top of the head. Teru smiled drunkenly and Reigen had to wonder if the kid was delirious. They both watched while the woman fussed with her bags, pulling out a large bottle of soda and shaking it. She opened it with a loud hiss over the sink, letting the fizz escape. She closed the cap and repeated it until it stopped hissing.

“Carbonation makes upset stomachs worse, but the ginger will help. If you give him ginger ale make sure it’s flat. And room temperature is best.”

She poured a small amount in a plastic cup and told Teru to sip on it slowly.

“What did he eat for dinner? You said his stomach hurt? Not just the regular nausea?”

“All he had was a little bit of plain rice,” Reigen said, praying he didn’t sound defensive.

Mayuko nodded approvingly.

“And maybe half a cup of strawberry milk.”

Reigen’s stomach dropped like a stone when she froze, a look of exasperation flashing quickly over her face before she schooled it back to patience.

“Ah. That’ll do it.” Mayuko sat herself down by Teru’s knee and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. “Dairy is a big no-no for nausea. Clear liquids only. Milk is going to do terrible things to a stomach bug.”

Reigen didn’t know that. He stuck his hands in his pockets to stop them from fluttering around in agitation.

“Shit. Sorry, Teru.”

Teru blinked at him drowsily, but there was no accusation there. Only something soft and quiet.

Reigen had to look away, his throat tight.

Mayuko spared him a look that was likely sympathetic, but Reigen wouldn’t have blamed her if it had been nothing short of disparaging. No wonder Teru loved the Kageyamas so much. They were too understanding. Too kind when Reigen just kept fucking up.

Reigen retreated to the kitchenette, hiding while Mayuko took Teru’s temperature and declared him officially Not Dying. She put a movie on for him and put the volume on low, a small pile of saltines spawning on the plate next to the bed.

It was only a few minutes later that Teru was nodding off, finally comfortable.

“There you go, sweetheart.” Mayuko dipped to press another kiss to the crown of his head and then she turned and cornered Reigen in the tiny kitchen.

Or maybe she just walked over. Maybe Reigen just felt cornered.

“It’s not a crime to give your kid the wrong thing when he’s sick, stop looking like you’ve poisoned him. He’s fine.” Mayuko crossed her arms and shook her head at him.

Reigen wanted to be able to agree to that. To be able to look back on this and laugh someday. And maybe he did, and maybe he would, but right now all he could do was lean back into the wall and stare down at his feet.

He was not going to cry in front of actual parents. He wasn’t.

Fuck, he was so tired.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he rasped, sliding down the wall and burying his face in his arms. He took a couple deep breaths, willing the prickling behind his eyes to go away.

It didn’t work.

Mayuko sat herself beside him, granting him the small mercy of not looking at him. Her eyes were trained on the snowflakes beyond the window over the sink.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted.

“No parent does.”

“That’s not- It’s not the same. Please don’t pretend like it is.” Reigen dug his fingers into his eyes like he could claw the headache right out of his skull.

Mayuko was quiet for a while, the only noise in the apartment the ticking of the clock and the muted talking coming from the TV in the other room.

“Arataka.”

“Nope. Don’t you first name me right now. I’m- I can’t.”

Mayuko sighed.

“Reigen, what you are doing for that boy is making a world of difference, you know that, right? Teruki trusts you. Adores you. That’s… A huge accomplishment as it is. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.”

“I’m lying to him.”

“We’ve talked about this.” The woman lowered her voice. “Saburo and I agreed. There’s no point in getting all the kids worked up over something that might never happen. They don’t need that right now. My kids certainly don’t, and Teruki needs time to heal. To process everything that’s happened in a loving, safe home where he isn’t stressing himself sick over what if's.”

Reigen stilled at the phrasing.

“Is that what this is? He stressed himself out so bad he got the stomach flu?”

“I said I wasn’t surprised that he was so sick, didn’t I?” Mayuko waved her hand. “That poor child has been through a living hell for six months. He’s been living in a negligent household with incompetent parents for his whole life. There is no way he's okay, and he won’t be for a long time. He’s been hospitalized and abandoned and had his entire understanding of the world turned inside out. He’s grieving. All that takes a toll of your immune system.

"Now that he thinks he’s out of danger, his body probably deemed it safe to fall apart. I honestly don’t know how he managed to hold himself together for this long.”

“So he’s only sick because he thinks Claw won’t attack him? That’s so fucked up. It’s a lie anyway. God, they could come any day now and he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Mayuko turned to look at him finally, her mouth pinched into a line.

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s not like he’s doing this consciously. And Claw is out of your control. A lot of this is. You’re doing just fine.”

Reigen let one hand wave about in frustration before tucking it back under his knee. “It doesn’t feel ‘just fine’.”

“What, you think Saburo and I could do better?”

Reigen bit back something too self-deprecating to say out loud. He chewed on the words, angry at how much he was feeling.

“Yes,” he muttered eventually.

Mayuko fell quiet and when Reigen dared to peer over at her, the woman looked sad.

“You know, it’s not like Saburo and I haven’t talked about taking him in. There’s a reason we haven’t offered.”

Reigen’s heart stuttered.

“Oh?”

“We knew about Teruki for a long time before we really understood what was going on. I’d met him a dozen times at the park. He was so sweet to Shige. So polite. But it was clear that something was wrong. He pulled away whenever we reached out. Ran away if I got too close. He was frightened of me for months. There was a point where even Shige was worried. We’d never seen anyone with him. It wasn’t right.”

Reigen uncurled, settling his hands in his lap. He knew that Teru had met the Kageyamas at the park, but he'd never heard either party talk much about that time.

“Teruki wouldn’t talk to me then and he still doesn't, not about anything personal. Especially not about his parents. Even with Saburo he's cautious. By the time Claw came for him, we were already aware that something was very wrong at home, but with no address or phone number or names, what could we do? You can't imagine how disturbed we were when he told us where he lived. He'd been traveling so far on his own for so long.”

Mayuko’s voice hardened.

“So we helped him lie to his mother, and at the same time filed reports against her. We promised to keep him safe and we failed. We lost him for over a month, Reigen. When you two showed up at our door we had been ready to give up. We thought we’d chased his mother away and she’d dragged him along to whatever corner of hell she crawled back into.” The woman swallowed, pressing a hand to her lips before continuing. “Too much has happened between us for Teruki to feel entirely at ease around Saburo and I. And it’s- I don’t think he would ever feel like part of our family if we adopted him.”

Reigen flinched at the word.

“He loves you guys…” he said.

“He does. And we love him too, don’t get me wrong. But we’re. I think we would be too much for him. Too different. To put it bluntly, we’re too normal. It would be jarring for him to be around so many people who already have set dynamics. I hate to put it this way, but he’s too traumatized to be comfortable around a happy family, though we’re far from perfect.”

Reigen blinked at her, speechless.

“…And you think I’m better for him, because…?”

Mayuko smiled, and her eyes grew warm. Fond.

“You’re new. You can build a little family just the two of you. No history. No past failures or lingering feelings. Teruki doesn’t have to pretend to be anything when he’s with you. There are no other children here for him to compare himself to.”

“He does compare himself to- to Shigeo a lot,” Reigen acknowledged. “I’ve been trying to get him to see that they are very different people. Teru’s working so hard and he’s come so far, I don’t want him to think he’s not perfect the way he is just because Shigeo… Just because his best friend is a bit more mild mannered.” Reigen cut himself off before he could start on a rant.

He’d talk about Teru forever and he knew it.

“There you go,” Mayuko said, placing a hand on Reigen’s arm.

She knew too.

“He loves you, Reigen. Not much matters beyond that.”

Reigen fought off another wave of emotion. He lowered his head, blinking rapidly. Whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“You keep that child, Reigen. You keep him and you do not let him go. You have every right to adopt him, and Saburo and I will be beside you every step of the way.”

“I don’t have the space. If they stop paying me to foster, I don’t have the money. I can’t support him, Mayuko. The courts would never let me have him. I only have him because of a fluke! Because some asshole wanted him as far from the regular system as possible! Because I lied!” he shouted in a whisper, hot tears welling uncontrollably.

“We have time. Even if Claw is gone, it’ll take the courts months to clear him. You know it will. We’ll think of something.”

They had to.

Mayuko insisted that Reigen eat breakfast and take a shower, and when he came out from the bathroom, Teru’s futon was rolled out in its old spot. It had been a long time since someone ordered him to go to sleep, but there was something a little nice about being mothered. Goodness knows his own mother hadn’t ever really indulged him.

Reigen double checked that Teru was still out like a light before allowing himself to sink down into the pad. It wasn’t big enough, but it was better than the awkward way he had to fit on the couch.

His sleep was dreamless, too exhausted to even snore.

It was mid-afternoon when Reigen awoke, groggy and bleary eyed. His neck didn’t feel stellar, but he was somewhat rested, and that was infinitely better than the sack of shit he felt like earlier.

Teru was awake and a sweaty mess once more, but Mayuko said he’d held down the ginger ale and had recently ventured to munch on some crackers while he stared blankly at the TV.

It was an improvement.

Reigen thanked the woman heartily and let her know that she was more than free to head home. He hadn’t even expected her to still be here when he woke up, but she was, puttering around and cleaning their kitchen and bathroom.

Reigen would be embarrassed if he weren’t so grateful.

“You’ve been busy. He’s been injured and sick and that takes priority over cleaning. I’m just helping you catch up with a couple things. Family always comes over and helps new parents when they bring home their kids. This isn’t that different.”

Reigen was an expert talker, but he had nothing to say to that. He nodded and let her shoo him back to Teru’s side.

“Hi,” Teru mumbled as soon as he sat. He reached out and smushed his face into Reigen’s shoulder.

“Hey, Teru. Mrs. Kageyama taking good care of you?” He shifted so that he could wrap his arm behind Teru’s back instead.

“Yeah. She’s good at that.”

“Yeah. She’s pretty cool. Are you feeling better?”

Teru hummed, face still pale. He closed his eyes, grimacing for a moment. “Uh, for now.”

Mayuko was experienced with taking care of kids, but she wasn’t a magician. No amount of miso broth and flat ginger ale was going to fix him in only a few hours.

The two of them sat and soaked up the peace and quiet. Night was approaching fast, the sun lighting up the far wall with stripes of brilliant orange. It wouldn’t be long before Teru was potentially in for a rough time. But things were calm for now.

Reigen looked at his kid curiously when Teru scooted over and laid down to use his legs as a pillow.

“I thought Mayuko said your belly would prefer to stay sitting up?”

Teru scrunched his eyes closed tight and pouted. It was a rare expression on his face, and Reigen chuckled.

“You’re comfy.”

“More comfy than the bed?”

Teru curled up with a shiver and Reigen adjusted the blankets to cover him better. He laid his hand on Teru’s arm and let it sit, hoping the warmth would help. Mayuko said it was normal for kids’ temperatures to spike at night or after eating, and with that came the chills.

“Very comfy. Most comfy,” Teru said stubbornly.

Reigen’s gaze darted up when he felt eyes on him, catching Mayuko with a sappy grin on her face. She watched them from the kitchen doorway and had the audacity to wiggle her eyebrows at him in a gesture that was so clearly a childish “I told you so,” that Reigen flushed and looked away so that he didn’t retaliate by sticking his tongue out or anything else horribly embarrassing.

“Hm?” His foster son peeked up at him when he gave an annoyed snort.

“Don’t worry about it. Mrs. Kageyama is making faces at me.”

Teru looked too fevered to make sense of that. He made a funny little sound and turned back to the TV, fingers sneaking up and out of the bathrobe to dust over Reigen’s.

Reigen took the smaller hand in his and held it, a fierce feeling building in his chest. In his heart and in his bones.

He was never going to let Teru go.