Work Text:
Dazai had, in all honesty, not expected his day to have gone so terribly wrong. But then again, it was he who chose to go to work in the midst of whatever sickness he had contracted this time around, rather than staying home in the comfort of his own bed, away from the dizziness clouding his mind.
And, to his credit, he managed to get through most of the work day without any hiccups. He had been doing fine, actually, until a file was placed onto his desk. Kunikida explained how they were all to receive new casework, seeing as how the office was relatively without work as of late. They were all still trying to figure out an adequate schedule with the newest recruits, it seemed.
The simple act of being assigned a new case wasn't what set Dazai off, no; if anything, he was actually excited to have something he could put his mind to. It was what the case was that sent him spiraling. Something or other on the distribution of child pornography near the Warehouse District.
It was almost as if he were being taunted.
Something a little too familiar, too close to his own reality, just barely scratching at shriveled up memories in the back of his head, tugging on the thread in his mind that held it all together until he was practically slamming the file down on Kunikida's desk, informing him in rather hushed tones that the case would need to be reassigned, that Dazai needed to go home.
And so he did.
And, for a while, that was that. He allowed himself a small bit of much needed sleep, thanks to his ever-present sickness and the bottles of medication cluttering his nightstand, and the incident had almost left his mind completely.
Almost.
When Dazai was sick, he got bored. Extremely bored. So, naturally, he found himself attempting to finish up some work at home, pulling out his laptop and going through files, news reports, anything he could find on the cases he'd been working on as of late.
When boredom found its way into the forefront of his mind again, dragging down his thoughts and causing an anxious energy to thrum throughout his veins, he, in a moment of piss-poor indulgence, turned to looking up anything he could about the case he'd handed back over to Kunikida.
Before he knew it, he was stuck in a hole, a loop replaying as he branched away from the case and into reports, articles, blogs, chat sites, everything he could get his hands. His stomach churned. He couldn't stop.
He found himself thinking of late winter nights, pinkie swears and the promise of something kinder than he'd ever receive whispered into dark rooms, the loss of something akin to innocence he didn't even realize had been taken. His skin prickled, sweat causing his clothes to stick uncomfortably as he shut his laptop, digging his palms into his thighs. The idea of jacking off idly passed his mind, but it had him quickly reeling backwards mentally, bile rising before being swallowed down with the aftertaste of something close to shame, curling around and ensnaring itself in his stomach.
Maybe it was the way his mind was already muddled from the dizziness clinging to him, but Dazai found himself stumbling towards the bedroom, swiping a pill bottle off of his counter and emptying it into his palm.
He only needed to take about three, but he felt his mind groan in protest as he poured the rest back into the bottle. Shifting uncomfortably, Dazai turned away from his nightstand, swallowing the three pills dry with a wince.
Practically throwing himself onto bed, Dazai buried himself under the covers, squeezing his eyes shut as he turned onto his side. He'd just sleep it off, easy peasy.
Dazai, apparently, even with the help of meds, couldn't sleep.
He'd been lying in bed with closed eyes for the past two hours, mind conjuring up scenarios and memories and thoughts that he'd rather not have, leaving him tossing and turning until he decided to give up, resorting to staring at the wall blankly until his mind quit.
He groaned, digging his palms into his closed eyes, squirming uncomfortably underneath the covers. God, why wouldn't this end?
The sound of the front door opening snapped him out of his thoughts, moving his palms away from his eyes as he debated what he should do.
Before he could decide, Chuuya was walking into the bedroom, clearly distracted, missing Dazai's form in the bed as he took his shoes off, setting his few belongings down on the dresser.
After a moment, Chuuya turned around, eyebrows raising at the sight of Dazai staring at him blankly from the bed.
"I thought you were working late today?"
Dazai grimaced at the reminder, sinking further under the covers and turning away from Chuuya. He didn't want to think about that.
"Bad day?"
Chuuya sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, hands hovering as if wishing to still Dazai's restless body. Dazai payed him little mind, grumbling under his breath.
Chuuya sighed, pulling his hands away and resting them in his lap as he turned his gaze to the wall. "I'm gonna go start dinner, okay?"
He left after a moment of silence, leaving Dazai alone with his thoughts. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.
Dazai found himself dosing off soon after, eyes fluttering shut as his body forcibly relaxed, his restlessness ending near immediately.
To say he dreamed would be wrong, Dazai didn't have dreams, not quite, but he did find himself stuck in a loop of reliving the same memory, over and over again. He shifted, squeezing his eyes tightly. After a particularly vivid moment, Dazai snapped his eyes open, coughing harshly, head spinning at the force.
He squirmed, pushing himself into a sitting position as he struggled to calm his breathing.
He couldn't breath, panic and discomfort clouding his mind. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
He must have done something to alert Chuuya, because the shorter man was walking into their room, brows furrowed in concern at the sight before him. He sat down next to Dazai's shaking form, taking one of Dazai's hands and placing it on his chest. He was saying things, if his mouth moving was anything to go off of, but Dazai couldn't focus on the words, coughing harshly as he gripped Chuuya's shirt, trying to force his heartbeat to follow the other man's.
"Good, good, there you go, Dazai. You're doing so good."
Dazai felt himself falter, swallowing harshly at the words until he was removing his hand from Chuuya's shirt, leaning over the edge of the bed and spilling his memories onto the carpet below him. He whined, a dry sob forcing itself out of his mouth. He hated this. He hated feeling like this.
"Shit, sorry, Dazai, I didn't..." Chuuya's voice faltered, brows pinched tight as he eased Dazai's body back into a sitting position, rubbing circles into his back.
Dazai felt himself jerking away from the touch before easing back into it, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.
"My stomach hurts."
Chuuya blinked, clearly not expecting the sudden complaint. "Are you hungry?"
Dazai shook his head, digging his palms into his eyelids before wiping away unshed tears. "No, no, my stomach hurts."
Chuuya's frown deepened, clearly uncertain. "I don't-... Dazai, why'd you throw up?"
Dazai shook his head again, blinking rapidly. Why were his eyes so watery? "No, no- I- I don't- Stop, stop, I don't wanna talk about this," he whined, squirming under Chuuya's hand. "I don't-, I don't wanna talk about it, my- my stomach hurts, Chuuya."
Chuuya raised the hand not being used as if surrendering, nodding in understanding. "Okay, okay, we don't have to talk about it, just- Dazai, does your stomach hurt because you had a-.. a bad dream? About when you were little?"
Dazai faltered before nodding slowly, frowning. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"That's okay, we don't have to. I just needed to know."
Chuuya pulled Dazai close until the others back was to his chest, rocking him slowly.
They stayed like that for a couple minutes before Dazai was sniffling, wiping his eyes one last time.
"I made us dinner, do you think that would make your stomach feel better?"
Dazai mumbled an answer, shrugging in response. He was playing with one of Chuuya's hands.
"You wanna try? It has crab."
Dazai hesitated before nodding, pulling away from Chuuya and sliding out of bed, blatantly ignoring the mess he made on the floor as he followed Chuuya into the kitchen.
A piss-poor attempt at resolving the issue, but Dazai couldn't find it in himself to care. A distraction was a distraction, and he did like crab.