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andjsjfks · 11 months

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Butterfly Clips and Strawberry Hair Ties

David/Angel

Sometimes being alpha of the pack means sitting amongst the pack pups and letting them do horrendous things to your hair. David didn't mind.

AO3

“You having fun?” David glances upwards, his vision mostly distorted by the colourful array of butterfly clips and beads decorating his fringe, courtesy of the trio of pups surrounding him. The pups pay no mind to the newcomer, far too focused on the task at hand. Behind David, sits Paige and Eva, each braiding small sections of hair at the back of his head. Brightly coloured hair ties, decorated with different plastic fruits sitting comfortably on their wrists. In front is Liam, Paige’s younger brother and the artist behind the spectacle that is David’s fringe.

He’s been meaning to get a haircut for weeks now. Every morning spent in the bathroom mirror complaining that the back is looking far too much like a mullet for his liking. His mate, however, disagrees.

Without it how would they ever have walked in on such a lovely sight?

“Not a word, angel” David murmurs, being careful to not disturb Liam from his handiwork. There’s a fondness in his voice that’s been more apparent as of late, a lightness to him that was hard found a year ago.

It wasn’t just his voice that appeared softer. Over the past couple of months, his shoulders had fallen from their spot up against his ears. The proverbial tie around his neck finally loosened up. Everyone could see it. More often than not he could be found engaging in pack jokes, now laughing along with Asher’s outlandish comments rather than instantly shooting them down.

The pups felt it too, the gradual shift in their alphas attitude. It’s not as if he was ever rude to them not at all. The pups knew in their hearts that no matter what, they could go to David for protection or advice. However, his standoff persona did make it difficult for the pups to play around with him the same way they did Milo or Asher. Paired with his intimidating height and gruff voice, he was certainly a difficult person to face.

But that had changed too, evident by the scene playing out in front of Angel. David cross-legged on the games room floor amidst a certainly creative hair makeover.

“Room for another hairdresser?” Ignoring their mate, Angel directs their question to Liam as he clips another small pink butterfly into the alpha's fringe. The frantic nodding from the boy is answer enough, emphasised by his shuffle to the side of David to create room for the alpha mate.

“Don’t you dare” The warning itself is fruitless, with his mate already having moved from their spot against the doorframe to kneel next to Liam, the youngest of the Shaw Pack pups.

“Which colour should I use?” Angel asks, rummaging through the little plastic box of clips owned by Paige. Wordlessly, Liam hunches over the box, picking out a glittery blue clip and handing it over to them. Liam has always been more on the shy side of things, opting to mostly hide behind his sister and her outgoing personality.

“Wonderful pick bud” They smile. Moving their hands over to an unclipped section of David’s hair, they ran their fingers through it for a brief moment before pushing the clip near the top of the stands, pinning back some of the hair clouding his vision.

David turns to Liam, hand resting on the boy’s own head as he ruffles his hair slightly. “What do you think kiddo, they do a good enough job of it?” Liam puts his full attention on the clip in question, moving David’s head about as he pleases to study the placement. With a smile and a nod, the boy turns back to the box of clips, searching for his next decoration.

A huff can be heard from behind David, as the two girls move his head to once again face forward, continuing on with their braids. His eyes meet his mates, where they wait with a smile and a specific look in their eyes.

It’s a gleam that he’d slowly started becoming more accustomed to. One that only ever appeared when he was found interacting with the youngest of the pack. David knows what that look means, he’s experienced it himself, on those few occasions when Angel’s niece and nephew have stayed the night at their place. When he walked into their living room to find the three of them cuddled up, chatting at a pace few can keep up with about the Disney movie playing on the tv.

The first time he felt it, it scared him. David’s always wanted a family, wanted so desperately to give the love he received as a kid to his own. After the accident, his priorities changed, they had to. He was the alpha now. A pack of wolves looked to him, for support, guidance and safety. His duty to his pack overpowered any dream that he might have wanted for himself. After all, he’d already resigned himself to not finding a mate, never mind having children. So he locked away the dream. Burying it deep beneath his newfound responsibilities as the leader of this pack.

Angel came into his life with a shovel and determination.

Within months of being together, they unearthed every thought he’d ever had about being a dad. That’s what terrified him. David had become so resigned to the idea of never having kids, to instead put all the care and protection he would’ve shown a child towards the pack, that when the thoughts of starting a family with his mate appeared he was overwhelmed by them. How could he possibly divide his love between being a father and an alpha?

Gabe made it look so easy.

David thought it impossible.

Until one night. The door to their apartment not long closed on Angel’s sister after picking up her kids from a ‘weekend with the Shaws’. David and his mate worked in silence, refolding blankets, cleaning up plates, and picking up the array of legos scattered across their living room floor. Silence broken only by the remaining few minutes of The Lion King 2 coming from the tv. As Angel collected the last couple of bricks that had rolled slightly beneath the couch, they cleared their throat. Throwing the plastic into a nearby tub, before resting on their knees and turning towards David in the kitchen.

“Do you want kids?”

Time stopped for just a second. Hands stilled around a plate, wet and in danger of slipping from his hold, especially considering the shock the question sent through him. This is it, he thought. The moment to bare all to them. Share every secret and dream about one day becoming a father to his own, how he longs for it all, every aspect. Early morning cartoons, scrapped knees, stabilizers and bedtime stories. How for years of his life he’d been convinced he’d never be able to have any of these things.

He has so much that he wanted to say.

Instead, he just says, “Yes”.

Angel knows. They can see in his knuckles, how they turned white as he gripped the plate, before loosening his hold and letting the blood flow freely. They see it in the widening of his eyes as he stares out the kitchen window, before relaxing his gaze and turning towards them, a glimpse of something so new and unfamiliar swimming within them. A gaze they’d see again, the next time their niece and nephew visit, and fully understand the meaning of it. They see him. They know him.

“Me too”

That’s all David’s mind needed for everything to fall into place. Confirmation from his mate that they too, wanted a family. He’d already achieved something he once thought impossible by finding them, an unempowered human who loved him, wolf and all. How they not only cared for him but held a fierce love and devotion towards his pack too, their pack. It no longer felt like an outlandish idea to have children of their own, in fact, it felt right.

Why couldn’t he be both an alpha and a dad?

He often wonders if this is how his dad felt, after meeting his mom and creating a pack together. If the idea of family changed in his brain once he found the one person he wanted to share it all with.

The two of them never really spoke about it directly again, instead opting to make little comments that hinted towards their future family together. Angel walking past the baby section of a store and holding up little boots, cooing over how cute they would look on their kid. David finding a mini plastic gardening set and immediately putting it in the cart to store in the attic for whenever they might need it. It was nice, knowing that the two of them were on the same page. In no immediate rush to extend their family, but acknowledging that it would happen at some point in their shared future.

A brush to the side of his face brings him back from deep within his head. Fingertips gently tracing from under his ear to the tip of his chin and back again.

“You know, if you think any harder you’re gonna hurt yourself” They laugh.

Any response from David is cut off by the excited sounds of the girls behind him. Eva clambered up onto her feet to run to his front, jumping slightly on the balls of her feet.

“We’re done! Go look go look” Small hands grab onto one of his own, attempting to pull him up off the floor.

“Ok ok let’s see the masterpiece” David waits for Liam to slide off of the knee he’d ended up on, then gets to his feet and walks over to the mirror hanging on the back of the door.

His hair, for lack of a better word, was a mess. Several clips bunched his hair up in ways that he knows will leave a knot for him to brush out. Some of the clips even sliding from their original places and falling down certain strands. The two braids were uneven and lopsided with chunks of hair falling out the sides and the hair ties too loose to be holding them together for much longer. God knows what reaction this will illicit out of Asher and Tank, the two most known for giving him a hard time about almost anything. Not to mention Sam, who quickly found himself comfortable enough within the pack to start teasing anyone, given the chance. But right now, behind him stood three kids, with gleaming smiles on their faces awaiting their alpha’s highly regarded opinion. And so he smiles.

“I love it, you guys did a great job”

The praise sets the two girls off on a whirlwind, explaining their reasoning behind the hair ties they chose and why. Liam stands quietly at their side, a small smile on his face as he admires the clip still held in his hands.

David tries to focus on what they’re saying he really does, but his mate catches his eye once again. Eyes soft with a smile even softer.

Handsome they mouth, a laugh threatening to escape their lips, but holding it back out of respect for the pups’ feelings. He can’t help the roll of his eyes.

One day, this will be their everyday.

One day, they won’t have to wait for pack meetings or solstices. Or weekends spent babysitting.

David couldn’t be more excited.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted david #redacted angel #redacted fic #go easy on me this is my first time ever writing a fic #i just couldnt get the idea out of my head #my baby fever has been in full swing recently #i had so much fun writing though #i wanna do more

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sickficideas · 11 months

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no promises || kunizai sickfic

ao3! 7.4k, mild nsfw/emeto themes - please refer to this link for warnings/tags! request for @potatopersonal on ao3!!

"Is Atsushi -"

"We've got it under control, Dazai. I need you to take this, you're the only one in any real danger here and you know that," Yosano tells him in that scolding mother voice of hers that often reminds him that she's the older one.

She's holding a cup of activated charcoal, something that he's dreadfully familiar with. He's taken it against his will and of his own accord on many occasions through his time with the Port Mafia, and he thinks even once or twice at the Armed Detective Agency, but this time he's not the culprit of his own demise.

He realizes that Yosano isn't going to give in and that she's really asking him to take it right here, right now - so he does like she's asked of him and somehow manages to down the entire cup without a pause.

It always makes him vomit. Every single time, without fail. The texture is so awful, and on top of that, he thinks his body has developed some sort of gag reflex specifically for this substance because he's taken it so many times against his will.

He and Atsushi were both poisoned downstairs at the cafe just about a half hour ago, he thinks. They only noticed because Atsushi started to feel incredibly unwell. Dazai doesn't know if he didn't get hit as hard because he's been poisoned before, or if Atsushi had much more of the poison than he did - either way, he's much more concerned about him.

This has happened before, this exact scenario, back when Dazai was a Port Mafia Executive. He and Akutagawa were both poisoned in the same way, their drinks being spiked. Dazai's health back then was much worse and it took him a lot longer to recover, but Akutagawa was unconscious for two weeks. Dazai thought he would never wake up. He remembers Gin asking him if he was going to die. He can still remember tears in her eyes that he'd never seen before or since then.

He can't believe he's let this happen twice. Why was he so careless?

"Yosano, he's - is he unconscious?" Dazai hardly manages to choke out before he feels the charcoal push its way back up his esophagus. Yosano's well prepared, of course, with a bedpan under his chin just seconds before a gag forces everything to splatter into the pan. He sucks in a breath and groans.

"He's conscious, and I need you to stay with me, too," Yosano says. Dazai can feel himself getting seriously lightheaded, and obviously it's bad enough for Yosano to notice, too. "I need you to take more of it, I'm sorry."

Dazai doesn't know if he can stay conscious. He can see the black creeping into his peripheral and he knows that's a sign that he's losing the battle. He lets Yosano do what she needs to do and he helps her as much as he can in his half-conscious state. He's really trying to fight it. Yosano forces more of the active charcoal down his throat and it bubbles back up in no time at all. Dazai's not even sure where the vomit ended up this time.

“Put me out of my misery,” he chokes out.

“I can’t do that, Dazai, I’m a licensed physician,” she reminds him for the hundredth time. Mori sure didn’t have a problem trying to help him die, but he didn’t care much about the law. He starts wondering if Mori even had a license at all, but his brain starts to fog up, and his eyes unfocus.

He can hear her saying his name. She sounds desperate, but his body is starting to go numb, and he can't respond. He can't fight it anymore.

At least, if he dies, it won't be painful.

But Atsushi -

…

Kunikida hasn't been this stressed in a long time. He's very aware that his presence stresses Yosano out so he's kept himself out of the infirmary and he's been sitting on a stray chair across from the couch. He's trying to stay calm, but he's deeply concerned for Dazai. Yosano reported that he started seizing, which is a bad sign.

Atsushi is sitting on the couch across from Kunikida, his expression looking just as solemn. He's still hooked up to an IV at Yosano's request with how dehydrated he is. He's only just now started to improve after hours of dealing with a raging fever and vomiting - Yosano thinks that his ability is slowly starting to mend his body and allowing the symptoms to subside, with the help of her own ability. She told him to stay out of the infirmary because she had a feeling the smell of the antiseptic was making him feel worse, with his heightened senses.

Dazai doesn't have anything to help him out. No ability to heal himself, and no possibility of Yosano interfering, so they're not even sure if he should be improving at this point.

"Kunikida?" Atsushi starts. His voice sounds hoarse. He coughs a few times to clear his throat.

"He'll be fine. Don't worry. He's always fine," Kunikida tells him, already knowing what he's going to say. He straightens up. "I want you to go home as soon as Kyoka gets here. You need to rest and I know you won't be doing that here."

"But I don't want to go," Atsushi murmurs. His voice sounds wobbly. He's been crying on and off for hours, Kunikida wouldn't be surprised if he started again now, but he's trying to keep him in good spirits.

"I get it, Atsushi. Trust me," he sighs. He pushes his glasses up to the top of his head and rubs at his eyes. "But you need to look after yourself too."

"Will you tell me if something happens?" Atsushi asks quietly.

"Of course I will."

Thankfully, it's not long until Kyoka is back from the medical supply errand she was asked to run for Yosano. She's incredibly worried about Atsushi, it's obvious even for someone who rarely shows strong emotion. He cries into her shoulder for a while, and she lets him. He's so drained, mentally and physically, that no one tries to cheer him up. Kunikida almost hopes that the tears will tire him out and help him sleep.

They all wish Atsushi well before the two of them leave, and not long after, Yosano makes an appearance back in the office, gathering concerned looks from everyone inside. Fukuzawa has appeared, too.

"He's not improving the way I'd like him to," Yosano says quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm keeping a close eye on him, but if he needs supplemental care I'll have to send him to a hospital."

Kunikida wastes no time in slipping inside the infirmary to see him as Yosano addresses the rest of the staff. He's at the one closest to the door. Kunikida's heart drops when he sees him.

Dazai's frame looks incredibly small and fragile in the cot like this. It's so rare to see him in such a state. Kunikida would have thought this is the kind of thing Dazai would never ever fall victim to, but he supposes every human lets their guard down. Even superhumans like Dazai.

Kunikida isn't sure if he's unconscious or not, but either way, he's in pain. Kunikida can see it in the way his face is all twisted up, the sweat collecting at his hairline. He wants to do something.

He sits down on the cot right beside his and sighs.

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into?" Kunikida sighs.

An hour or so passes, and Kunikida spends his time completely still at Dazai's bedside, trying to stay out of Yosano's way. Ranpo comes back from a job with the Yokohama police and quickly assures them that the attack on Dazai and Atsushi was an angry client of theirs. Ranpo knows who it is, and he's already on the case - and before long, he leaves to catch him, with Kenji in tow to apprehend him by physical means.

Kunikida was starting to worry it had something to do with Dazai's past at the Port Mafia. That would open a whole new can of worms. This is easy, something they can handle with no issue.

"One of my friends up in Tokyo is a poison specialist. I'll take the sample there and he'll help me create an antidote for him without using any abilities, that way it’ll work on him…" Yosano murmurs. Kunikida heard her mention she already tried ability-based antidotes she’s acquired, just in case there were somehow enough degrees of separation for it to work, but with no luck.

Yosano tells him this with a briefcase in hand and her lab coat, something she doesn't wear as often nowadays, letting him know that she's leaving now.

Yosano gives him a list of ranges for his vital signs to look out for, and any symptoms that could appear that would require a hospital visit.

"Shouldn't you stay with him instead?" Kunikida asks nervously, looking up at her. He's not sure about this. Dazai doesn't seem to be doing well at all, for the only doctor on their staff to leave him. God, his stomach is starting to hurt from the stress. “What if he has another seizure?”

"I trust you. If you think he needs to go to the hospital at any point, do that. Don't ask me first," Yosano says. "I know you'll do what's best for him. He hasn’t seized in at least an hour, so I think that’s over with for now.”

Kunikida bites his lip. He hopes she's right.

…

It’s almost eight o’clock in the evening now, and Dazai has been unconscious since the first time he had a seizure.

He’s stable. His vital signs haven’t changed, he hasn’t had any seizures, and Kunikida has checked in with Yosano a few times. She expects him to wake up soon. Kunikida started working himself up, horrified that Dazai has slipped into some sort of coma, but Yosano doesn’t seem to think that’s a possibility.

“Kenji caught the culprit. He’s been placed in a holding cell until they can prove his guilt,” Ranpo says as he hands Kunikida the report. He’s stopped by to hand it off to Kunikida. Kenji has already gone home.

“They didn’t take your word for it?” Kunikida asks, half joking as he thumbs through the pages. Ranpo doesn’t do a very good job at filling these out, so Kunikida usually has to fix most of it for him.

“The guy’s a cop, of course. So they’re protecting him,” Ranpo grumbles, mildly annoyed. “Sounds like he was after Dazai specifically. Couldn’t give me a solid reason, but I know he’s been a client before. He knows something about Dazai’s…previous job. I’m sure.”

Kunikida bites his lip. As long as the guy is behind bars.

“How is he?” Ranpo asks. “Stable?”

“Yeah. Yosano isn’t too worried about him getting worse too quickly,” Kunikida mumbles, “but he’s not getting better.”

“Be careful with him. You know how he gets around Yosano when he’s not in his right mind,” Ranpo warns, and that’s the last thing he says to him before he waves him off and leaves the Agency.

Kunikida finds himself standing at that front door, staring at the report cover, thinking about what Ranpo said. It’s only happened once - Yosano was trying to treat Dazai after he collapsed from a high fever, but he wouldn’t let Yosano touch him. It was the most hysteric that Kunikida has ever seen him. They weren’t sure what was going on, but obviously, Yosano specifically reminded him of someone from his past.

He's pulled out of his thoughts for a moment when he hears something fall.

He tosses the report on his desk and almost sprints over to where the sound came from, certain Dazai is the source of it. He turns into the infirmary and Dazai is crumpled on the floor, turned into himself, arms shaking and breath hitching. The fluid stand is on the floor beside him.

"Dazai, what the hell?" Kunikida starts, carefully kneeling down beside him. He reaches out to touch his cheek. His skin hot to the touch. Kunikida knew he was running a fever, but this seems much worse than before. He curses under his breath.

"Where is…where…" Dazai murmurs. His eyes are dark and unfocused as he tries to force himself off the floor. His arms are hardly support his weight. He’s shivering, Kunikida thinks, but he’s not sure if it’s from the fever, or from fear. His eyes meet Kunikida’s once he’s at level with him, but his expression doesn’t change.

"You shouldn't have gotten up, what are you doing?" Kunikida chides nervously. Dazai can't answer, and he pulls himself out of Kunikida’s way fast enough to vomit on the tile floor instead of his vest.

Kunikida curses to himself. It's just a splatter of bile and activated charcoal, it looks like, but he doesn't know if it's good that he's still throwing up like this. Dazai’s breath hitches and he gags again, this time, only spitting up saliva.

Kunikida reaches forward to touch him, to offer him a comforting hand or something, but the second he does, Dazai whips his head around with eyes wider than he's ever seen them.

He looks scared. Why on earth would he be scared? He didn’t look like this a minute ago, but Kunikida quickly recognizes this as the look from the time Ranpo referenced earlier.

Dazai scrambles to get away from him, he rips the IV that was somehow still attached out of his arm and somehow manages to stand himself up, but one wrong move has him crumpled on the floor again, right after his head made contact with the metal framing of the cot he was using for support. Kunikida is trying to keep his cool. He's only seen Dazai like this once before, he doesn't know what to do. Does he need to call an ambulance? Should he call Yosano?

"Dazai," Kunikida says, biting his lip to keep his cool. He stands up to get on the other side of him. He needs to get him back in bed, but the moment he touches his arm, Dazai flinches so hard that Kunikida is almost worried he'll hurt himself. He's sure he hears him whimper. God, his heart aches.

"Don't," Dazai mumbles. He's shaking, and his voice shakes with him as he turns his head away. Kunikida doesn't know what's gotten into him. He wonders if his fever has gotten so high that he's hallucinating.

"Dazai, it's Kunikida," he tells him quietly, tightening his grip on his arm. He needs him back to reality.

Miraculously, Dazai stops trying to get away.

Kunikida doesn't waste any time. He scoops him up into his arms and carries him back to the cot he was in earlier. He tries to lay him down, but Dazai's gripping onto his shirt, refusing to let go.

Kunikida takes his head and tucks it under his chin. He lets out a shaky breath. If Dazai wasn’t so out of it, he’d give him a talking-to about how much he scared him.

"Where…" he murmurs into Kunikida’s chest, still holding on.

"You're in the infirmary," Kunikida tells him. He almost wonders how Ranpo could have guessed this would happen, but of course it did. "At the Armed Detective Agency."

He feels him relax in his hold, just enough to let Kunikida worry a little less.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m sorry,” Kunikida says quietly, holding him a little closer. He can’t imagine waking up in a hospital cot by himself like that, in the dark infirmary. No wonder he was so freaked out, especially with that fever - Kunikida has concerns that Dazai’s fear just now was more deeply rooted in something else entirely, something that Kunikida will likely never be able to get him to admit.

Kunikida holds him like that for a while and Dazai starts to breathe normally. He’s not shaking as much, but he feels him shiver every now and then, and after long enough, Dazai barely manages to pull out of Kunikida’s hold to gag, and bring up more activated charcoal onto the bed sheets. He coughs a few times, but nothing else comes up.

Kunikida sighs. Of course, he can’t help it. Thankfully there’s plenty of other cots in here, so Kunikida decides he’ll move him to the next one. “Can I pick you up again?” Kunikida asks.

Dazai’s frame melts back into Kunikida’s hold to tell him yes with a whimper, and Kunikida scoops him up to lay him down on the other cot. This is probably better anyway, fresh cool sheets ought to do him some good.

Kunikida takes a comforter from a different cot to lay over Dazai, and he’s realized too late that his arm is still bleeding from where he pulled out the IV - not much, but enough to leave marks. He rummages through the supply drawers beside the cot to grab some gauze and wrap to wrap it up, at least, and as he carefully pulls it around Dazai’s arm, he sees his head tilt in his direction.

"Is Atsushi okay?" he asks, almost sounding out of breath at the effort it took him to say it. Kunikida is beyond relieved to hear him speaking coherently.

"He's fine, Dazai. He's home with Kyoka and she'll let us know if anything goes wrong," Kunikida assures as he closes the wrap. "Worry about yourself, for once."

Dazai doesn't seem like he's going to take that into consideration even remotely. Atsushi at least listened to reason.

Kunikida needs to place another IV for fluids. He’s been vomiting so much that there’s simply not another option - he highly doubts he can get him to drink any water. The problem is that Dazai hates needles, at least when anyone else is using them on him in this kind of setting. Kunikida has seen him refuse fluids at hospitals before because of it. Kunikida isn’t sure if it’s just a general dislike or if it stems from trauma, since Dazai is whiney about most things, but he’s afraid of making things worse right now.

“I have to put another IV in,” Kunikida tells him, a hand wrapped around his wrist where he just wrapped up his arm.

“No,” Dazai whines, childishly turning his head away.

“I have to, Dazai. You’re still throwing up, you’re dehydrated,” Kunikida tells him. “And I know you won’t be able to keep water down.”

Dazai doesn’t turn his head back, but he makes no effort in trying to pull his arm away, either. He thinks he realizes he can’t avoid it.

“Is it okay if I take some of your bandages off?” Kunikida asks.

“Use the top of my hand,” Dazai murmurs, his head still turned away from Kunikida.

Kunikida stands up to gather what he needs - he’s done this enough times to know how to on his own, thankfully. While he’s up he decides to wet a cloth for Dazai’s forehead, hoping that will help distract him.

He brushes Dazai’s hair out of his face, and his dark eyes peer up at him with emotions that Kunikida can’t quite read. His hairline is damp from sweat. He lays his hand over his forehead again and frowns before he lays the washcloth over his burning forehead, and he shivers, but relaxes just a bit once he gets used to the feeling.

He pulls up a chair on the other side of the cot and turns on the lamp to get started. “Can you make a fist for me?”

Dazai obliges. His head turns up and his eyes are glued to the ceiling, looking for something else to focus on. Kunikida takes note of how his breaths quicken, just a bit. Kunikida needs to distract him.

"You seem familiar with this situation. Am I correct?" Kunikida asks. Kunikida was at the cafe with them when it happened. Dazai shouted for someone to get Yosano as soon as Atsushi said he felt nauseous because it was far too soon after he complained of the taste of the tea. Dazai had his fingers down the poor kid’s throat to get him to vomit before Kunikida could even piece together what was happening. He’s been wondering if this happened to him before.

"Mhm," Dazai mumbles after taking in a sharp breath.

"So this has happened to you before," Kunikida says.

"Mhm," Dazai nods. At first, Kunikida thinks he's just going to drop it, because even though Kunikida knows about Dazai's past now, he's still not any more open to sharing the details. "Almost…this exact scenario. With me, and…my subordinate."

"Yeah? Someone spiked your drinks?" Kunikida asks, making sure he has good placement before he uses the needle.

"Mhm," Dazai mumbles. "My subordinate was…he was unconscious for two…three? Two weeks, I think."

Kunikida wasn't aware he had any direct subordinates, but he supposes it makes sense, given Dazai's rank as an executive. It's so strange how he's never mentioned anything even remotely alluding to their existence. He uses that brief moment to stick Dazai, and he flinches, but manages to keep his arm still enough to not pull anything out. “Good. Good job, that part’s over.”

“I hate those things,” Dazai murmurs feverishly. His breaths have gotten a bit faster now, and Kunikida makes a mental note to remind himself he still has to get him hooked up to the monitoring machines again.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Kunikida says gently as he starts to dress Dazai’s hand. He wants to comfort him, somehow, but he thinks the best thing to do for someone like Dazai is a distraction. "How long ago did it happen? Long time ago?”

Somehow, turning the conversation back around to the previous topic has worked a bit. Dazai focuses back on that. "Yeah, must've been…sixteen, I think."

"You had subordinates at sixteen?" Kunikida huffs, looking up at him for a brief moment. "How old were they?"

"He was…fourteen, I think," he breathes out. Kunikida bites his lip. He knew that the mafia recruited a lot of their members very young, after all, Kyoka stands to show that.

"You recruited him?" Kunikida says. It’s hard to imagine. Kunikida almost wonders if he’s joking, but he doesn’t have the energy for that right now. "A fourteen-year-old."

"I did," Dazai admits.

"Still alive?" Kunikida asks.

"Mhm. You've met him," Dazai says turning his head back towards him. Kunikida reaches forward with his free hand to readjust the washcloth on his head, as it’s started to slip.

Well, now Kunikida's intrigued. He keeps eye contact. "Who? That redhead?"

Dazai scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Hell no."

"Then who?"

"C'mon, guess,” Dazai says, Apparently, he’s gathered enough energy to mess him with. Kunikida will take it, it’s a good sign.

"I have no clue, Dazai. Tell me," Kunikida huffs, exasperated. He turns his attention back to dressing the IV catheter on Dazai’s hand, which he’s almost finished with. "I don't even know that many Port Mafia dogs by name. Akutagawa is the only one I can think of."

Dazai tilts his head to the side with a cheeky grin. The washcloth starts to slide down his face.

"You're kidding,” Kunikida blinks, reaching back up to fix it. “Stop moving so much.”

"Not kidding."

"You've known him the whole time?" Kunikida exclaims. He feels like he should be angry, but somehow it makes sense. Dazai always seemed a little too eager to brush off any mention of the so-called Hellhound of the Port Mafia. Kunikida thinks he even recalls Dazai slipping up and mentioning a detail about him that none of the rest of them knew, but that memory was lost to him until now.

"I couldn't tell you I knew him. That'd give me away," Dazai shrugs, this time, seemingly making an effort to keep his head still.

"Your information would've been helpful, though," Kunikida grumbles, attaching the line to Dazai’s hand to get the fluids going.

"You knew everything you needed to know. He's a Port Mafia attack dog and he'll kill anything he sees," Dazai says incredibly casually.

"And you've known him since he was fourteen, huh?" Kunikida asks, sitting back in the chair as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Dazai's expression changes, but it's an emotion that Kunikida doesn't quite recognize. "Mhm."

Kunikida can't really fathom any of this. A sixteen-year-old Dazai with a fourteen-year-old Akutagawa is just something his brain can't even picture - both of them younger than even Atsushi is now. Dazai having any connection to someone as cold-blooded as Akutagawa doesn't make any sense to him.

When he looks over at Dazai again, his eyes are lost. He's somewhere else. Kunikida doesn't know what life was like for him in the Port Mafia, but it can't have been good. He was already a major alcoholic by the time he joined the Detective Agency, and Kunikida still remembers the shiver that ran up his spine when he saw how thin he was under his clothes. He still doesn't eat meals regularly out of habit, it's something that Kunikida almost has to force on him, but he’s gotten much better about it.

Whatever happened to him damaged him much more than anything Kunikida could ever hope to fix on his own.

"Are you okay?" Kunikida asks him.

Dazai lifts his head with wide eyes like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

“Let me get your temperature,” Kunikida says, taking the thermometer from the drawer out of the case. He sticks it under Dazai’s tongue for a few seconds and it ends up reading 102.3. That’s not horrible, but it isn’t good, either.

He looks back in Dazai’s direction to find that look in his eyes again, but this time, some of the color has started to drain from his face, and he notices him swallow thickly.

"You look nauseous," Kunikida comments.

"Uh-huh," Dazai mumbles. He burps into a closed fist and groans. "Need the pan."

Kunikida feels awful for him. Yosano couldn't give him a thing for his nausea because vomiting would actually help his specific situation according to what Yosano gathered, so he's probably been feeling horribly nauseous this entire time. Kunikida doesn’t see a bedpan in the drawer so he takes the trash bin and holds it under Dazai’s chin as he tries to sit himself up with a whine.

He spits into it, saliva getting caught on the sides as he huffs out breaths. He lays a hand over his stomach and groans. “Ugh…”

"Empty?" Kunikida asks. He can’t imagine he has much left in his stomach.

"No," Dazai breathes out, to Kunikida’s surprise, "won't come up."

Kunikida sighs. Of course. "Want me to help you?"

"Please," Dazai whines. He burps, and it sounds wet, but all that drips from his lips is saliva. "I suck at doing it myself, I… hrruk -"

A gag that brings up nothing, and Kunikida realizes he really will need help.

He's done this before. He's probably a pro at preventing overdoses because of Dazai, but this here isn't a life-or-death situation, at least.

He doesn't bother with gloves because he knows he'll wash his hands regardless, and he slips a hand past Dazai's saliva-coated lips, his other hand on the back of Dazai's neck to make sure he doesn't jolt back when his hand gets back far enough.

His mouth is warm, the insides of his cheeks are so soft. He’s trying to ignore the thought, but Dazai looks hot like this. His eyes red and tired, lips wet and almost swollen, cheeks flushed. Kunikida feels something he shouldn't in that moment, and he gets far enough back without realizing, and hot vomit spills over his hand without much warning.

It's not much. It's water and charcoal and bits of whatever is left in his stomach from lunch dripping down Kunikida’s hand and into the bin. Dazai whines and spits the bits left in his mouth into the bin. He breathes heavily over it and Kunikida haphazardly covers his hand in a layer of paper towels to avoid dripping Dazai’s stomach contents onto the floor on his way over to the sink, but he stays for a moment to make sure Dazai’s okay.

“Hurts,” Dazai groans. He burps over the bin, but of course, nothing comes up. He lays back but he holds onto the bin.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Kunikida sighs. He wishes he could do more to help him. “Will you be okay by yourself for a second?”

“Uh-huh,” Dazai murmurs, leaning back and pressing his hand against his stomach.

Kunikida remembers there’s a splatter of puke on the floor and on the cot Dazai was previously resting on that he needs to clean, but right now, he’s not keen on leaving Dazai out of his sight for too long. He washes his hands a bit longer than he needs to, and looks over his shoulder to check on Dazai one too many times - he hears him burp and gag a few times, but once Kunikida is on the way back to him, he’s laid back all the way, eyes screwed shut and breaths heavy.

Kunikida places the bin back on the floor as he sits in the chair again. He looks over the fluid stand and Dazai’s hand to make sure everything is still properly attached before he leans forward to flip over the washcloth on his warm forehead. “I’ll check with Yosano to see if there’s anything I can give you for that fever.”

“I just want my stomach to stop hurting,” Dazai whines, but he really sounds like he’s in pain.

“I know, Dazai,” Kunikida sighs, Yosano already told him that will have to wait until he gets an antidote. “Maybe we -”

“Can you…can you check on Atsushi for me?” Dazai asks, forcing his eyes open to look over at Kunikida. Kunikida finds it a bit out of nowhere. “Please.”

“I can do that,” Kunikida says. He hasn’t heard from Kyoka. Junichiro texted Kunikida a while ago to let him know he and Naomi would check in with the two of them occasionally to make sure they were doing okay, but that was all. He pulls out his phone and dials Kyoka’s number.

“Hello?” she answers nervously.

“Don’t worry. I’m just calling to make sure everything’s okay,” Kunikida says. He lowers his phone and puts it on speaker for Dazai to hear. “How’s Atsushi doing?”

“Kunikida? Is that you?” It’s Junichiro’s voice. He hears some shuffling, and suddenly Junichiro’s voice is much clearer. “Kyoka had to knock him out a little bit ago. He couldn’t sleep ‘cause he was so anxious. He was making himself sick.”

Kunikida’s shoulders sink. “Anxious about what?”

“He’s worried about Dazai,” Junichiro says a little more quietly, and Kunikida watches Dazai tense up in his peripheral. “We kept telling him he’d be okay. And you said you’d call if something went wrong, but…we had to use the last resort.”

Kunikida bites his lip as Dazai turns his head away.

“But I think it was good for him. He’s been sleeping well since then, maybe we should’ve knocked him out sooner,” Junichiro half-jokes. “Is Dazai doing okay? We’re worried too.”

“He’s doing fine,” Kunikida tells them. He doesn’t want to lie and say he’s better, but telling them how he’s really feeling will only worry them more. “Nobody needs to worry. We have everything under control and they’ll both be good as new once Yosano gets ahold of that antidote.”

They exchange a few more words before Junichiro tells him they should get to sleep too, and Kunikida realizes he’s probably in the same boat as Atsushi - he won’t be able to sleep in favor of worrying about Dazai, but he can’t sleep even if he wanted to. He has to make sure he stays stable until Yosano gets back.

Once he hangs up, Kunikida reaches to lay a hand over Dazai’s arm, but the way he’s breathing - so calmly - tells Kunikida that he’s fallen asleep. Kunikida almost has to wonder if he was getting himself that worked up over Atsushi in his fevered brain.

Kunikida gets him hooked back up to all of the necessary monitors while Dazai drifts off into a deeper sleep, and he changes the washcloth on his forehead, too. He looks so much more relaxed. His eyes aren’t screwed shut so tightly. He looks like he might actually get some good rest.

Kunikida presses a kiss up to his forehead before he changes the washcloth, and he sits back in the chair beside Dazai’s cot as he cracks open the report and gets back to work.

…

The rest of the night went by more smoothly than Kunikida could have asked for. He’s usually not a fan of pulling all-nighters like that, but he got caught up on the work he missed through yesterday’s situation. And even better, Dazai slept through the night.

“I have to pee,” Dazai mumbles as soon as he wakes up. The staff have started to file back into the building, Kunikida can hear it from across the hall, and the light has started to spill through the windows back into the infirmary.

Kunikida sits beside him on the cot to help him up, making sure Dazai doesn’t have any room to do another sprint across the infirmary like last night. He’s looking better, but he’s downright exhausted, shown in the dark circles under his eyes. It’s still obvious he doesn’t feel good.

“You won’t carry me?” Dazai pouts.

“Do you need me to? Or do you want me to carry you?” Kunikida huffs as he snakes an arm around his waist to help him up on his feet. His legs are still a bit wobbly, but he gets his footing, and uses the fluid stand pole for support.

“Want, need? What’s the difference?” Dazai complains with a dramatic sigh. He can tell he’s feeling better with how absurd he’s acting, but his fever is still there, Kunikida can feel it on his skin. “I want you. It’s that kinda sexier than saying I need you?”

Kunikida keeps a hand on his back as he leads him over to the restroom. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hehe. Love you too,” Dazai jokes.

Kunikida makes sure he doesn’t need help going to the bathroom before he closes the door, and he busies himself with changing the sweat-dampened sheets on Dazai’s cot while he waits.

He’s surprised to see Atsushi standing in the doorway, looking horrified to see the cot empty.

“Relax, he’s just in the bathroom,” Kunikida says, dropping what he’s doing to meet Atsushi at the entrance, but the deep concern doesn’t leave his eyes. “What are you doing here, Atsushi?”

"Is he still not doing well?" Atsushi murmurs nervously.

"He's improved," Kunikida assures him with a hand on his shoulder, "You look much better. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Atsushi tells him. Kunikida won't take his word for it, he's not usually very honest about this kind of thing. He looks better than he did yesterday, but he can tell just by looking at him that he's nauseous with anxiety, just like Junichiro described last night. He takes note of the way he's breathing through his mouth instead of his nose to avoid the antiseptic smell.

"Don't worry about him so much. He's survived worse, hasn't he?" Kunikida reminds him with a chiding sigh, regardless of the fact that he's just as concerned. He can't pass those feelings on to Atsushi, especially knowing they had to knock him out last night to get him to sleep.

"I guess so," Atsushi murmurs.

"Who told you to come in today? You should still be resting," Kunikida tells him. He knows Atsushi came of his own accord. He’s here much earlier than detectives usually need to be - he probably snuck out.

"Um…well, no one, I just…I just wanted to make sure he wasn't…" Atsushi mumbles.

"I'll call you if something's the matter. Go back home, no one needs you sitting around here with how you’re feeling," he sighs, landing a hand on Atsushi’s back and walking outside of the infirmary with him.

Atsushi doesn't seem to be paying attention entirely, and Kunikida almost starts to scold him for not listening before he realizes that he's lost a lot of color in his face, enough to make him think he's about to throw up. Atsushi is much more aware of it than Kunikida, obviously and he bolts for the trash bin right inside of the infirmary to retch and gag once or twice before vomit spills past his lips. He’s shaking, breathing hard and clearly anxious, but thankfully, he seems to have only needed to vomit once. Even so, he coughs and forces a burp or two just to make sure.

He crouches down in front of the bin and leans his head against it, still visibly shaking. He's not in nearly as rough shape as he was yesterday regarding this. Atsushi doesn't seem to mind other people throwing up at all, but if it's himself, he almost makes himself even more sick with anxiety. Yesterday he was too out of it to really take in what was happening, but now he's fully lucid.

"I guess - this whole thing is a, uh…a good way to get - get over this," Atsushi stammers between shaky breaths, of course, still trying to keep a positive attitude. Kunikida can hear his breathing patterns start to get erratic with panic, and he hears him attempt to swallow back a gag.

"I'll be right back. Stay here,” he tells him after patting his back and heading back for the Agency Office, where Junichiro has since appeared with his sister.

"Tanizaki, can you take Atsushi home?" Kunikida asks. Normally he wouldn't bother a detective with a task like this, but he'd rather Atsushi be with someone familiar while he's feeling so anxious.

"Did he show up? With how he’s feeling?" Tanizaki asks, concern already washing over his face as he gets up from his desk. Kunikida assumes he and Naomi went home after Atsushi fell asleep. "He's still sick?"

"I think part of it might be nerves now. I don't need him hanging around and worrying about Dazai," Kunikida says, and Junichiro follows him back out into the hallway.

Atsushi is sitting against the doorframe with his knees pulled up tight against his chest and his head on his knees, mumbling something to himself.

"Hey, Atsushi, let's get you downstairs, yeah? You should go home and take days off when you can get them," Junichiro tells him gently as he crouches beside him. Atsushi seems to have given up on his image entirely as he leans into Junichiro. The latter's brow twists with concern and he brings him into a hug, and Kunikida quickly realizes that Atsushi’s crying. "I know. You'll both be okay soon. I'll see if Yosano can get you something to settle your stomach when she gets back, okay?"

"Kay," he mumbles into Junichiro's shoulder.

"Good. I know you hate it, but you're doing a good job," Junichiro tells him in a gentle voice that Kunikida doesn't think he'd be able to pull off. He ruffles his hair fondly. "You know how seasick I get, right? You're handling this way better than I do."

"I am…?" Atsushi murmurs, lifting his head just a bit.

"For sure."

Junichiro is much better at this than Kunikida is in general.

Kunikida waves both of them off as Junichiro leads him back to the elevator, continuing to talk to him gently, and Kunikida shakes off his concern for Atsushi as he notices his shoulders relax before they disappear behind the elevator doors.

Kunikida walks back into the infirmary and stops in the doorway to find Dazai peeking out of the bathroom like he’s checking if the coast is clear.

"What'd you do to that kid to make him worry so much, huh?" Kunikida sighs.

"Beats me," Dazai half-chuckles, clutching onto the IV pole as he walks out of the bathroom, looking less wobbly than before, but Kunikida still meets him to walk him back to his cot. Kunikida can see the hint of concern in his eyes, but Dazai doesn’t show it for long. "He went home?"

"He did," says.

"Hope he won’t be that upset when I finally end it all,” Dazai says, singing the words at the end.

“Well, he will, and so will everyone else, so go ahead and cancel your plans now,” Kunikida grumbles when they make it to the cot. He’s bewildered by Dazai’s audacity to say things like that sometimes, but he thinks he’s so disconnected from the reality of it that he just doesn’t understand. “You’re still dizzy.”

He observes that when he lowers him back down to the cot and Dazai’s head bobs a bit, just before he lays him back down. He’s not so pale anymore, thankfully.

“‘S not a big deal,” Dazai says. His head sinks back into the pillow, and he’s relaxed, Kunikida thinks. He’s not as tense as usual.

"Yosano should be back soon," Kunikida tells him. “She texted me earlier.”

"Mm," Dazai hums as his eyes start to fall shut again.

Kunikida lays a hand over Dazai's cheek. He's still warm, but he thinks his fever has gone down a bit. He’s hoping he’ll get the clear to get Dazai to eat something once Yosano is back. Kunikida probably needs to grab breakfast for himself, too.

"What'd I do to you?" Dazai suddenly asks with a dry, one-note laugh, just as soon as Kunikida takes his hand back.

Kunikida feels his ears get hot. "What do you mean?"

"You're more worried than Atsushi is," Dazai tells him with a little chuckle, thoroughly amused. "And you know how hard it is to kill me."

"I'm not worried," Kunikida scoffs. “Just making sure you don’t die. Do you know how annoying that paperwork would be? I have to pick up enough of your slack as it is.”

“Sure, Kunikida, whatever you say,” Dazai giggles to himself, “You love me. You took such good care of me and you’re so worried about me you can barely stand it.”

“Fine,” Kunikida grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. His face is red beyond belief, he’s sure.

“Say it back!” Dazai whines.

“You didn’t say you love me!” Kunikida shouts back at him with a groan. “How do you think this works, you idiot?!”

“But I do,” Dazai claims. His eyes soften, but there’s still a hint of that cheeky grin left on his lips. “I love you, Kunikida.”

He almost sounds sincere. “Fine. Fine, I love you too.”

Dazai looks incredibly accomplished, meanwhile, Kunikida wishes he could duck his head underwater. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“Go back to sleep. You’re so annoying,” Kunikida grumbles, “you’re sure not acting like you were poisoned yesterday.”

“Aw, that’s mean, Kunikida. I still don’t feel good,” Dazai whines, and even though he’s just using it as leverage, Kunikida feels guilty, because it’s obvious he doesn’t feel good. “Will you lay with me?”

“Not a chance, Dazai. I’m not risking falling asleep and Yosano walking in,” Kunikida grumbles, rubbing his eyes as he slides his glass up on top of his head. His lack of sleep is starting to catch up with him.

“Aww, please? You’re tired. And I need comfort. It’s a win-win,” Dazai explains, but Kunikida shakes his head at him.

“I can comfort you from here,” Kunikida tells him. He takes his hand and squeezes it a little tighter than normal. He’s so thankful Dazai’s doing better. He’s not sure what he would have done if he took a turn for the worse. “I’ll lay with you tonight when we go home.”

“Your place?” Dazai asks.

“Pretty sure yours is a mess,” Kunikida confirms. He reaches forward to brush his fingers through Dazai’s soft curls, still damp with sweat at the roots. Dazai lets his eyes fall shut. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Mmm…no promises,” Dazai says quietly, and Kunikida squeezes his hand one more time as a reminder. Dazai may not be able to make that promise, but Kunikida will be there with him every time. He leans forward to press a kiss on his warm, flushed cheek.

And of course, despite his efforts to avoid getting caught, he hears Yosano’s voice, already giggling.

“Kunikida?”

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