Hold On (I Still Need You)

Eleven

A/N: This entire chapter has a purpose I swear, but for now it's going to seem like a filler chapter. Just bare with me.

Chuuya pretends to zone out, watching his shoes and the window behind them. In reality, he was all to aware of the fact that he was in a building filled with people that would probably kill him given the order. The walls felt a bit to much like a cage, and escaping into his own head was something Chuuya could never resort to. Arahabaki's chilling laughter rings in his ears, and Chuuya shakes his head once to rid himself of it.

"Oh Chuuya, I haven't shown you the roof," Dazai says, prodding Chuuya's shoulder with a bandaged hand.

"Why would I need to see the roof?" Chuuya asks, looking to his ex-partner, done with whatever scheme Dazai had before it started.

"Just c'mon," Dazai grabs his wrist and pulls Chuuya up before he can struggle out of it.

Not willing to make a scene, Chuuya follows closely to Dazai. He continues to stare at the ground though. Dazai's own gloved hand has a tight grip on Chuuya's own and he can't help when his vision swirls red.

I don't like this one. Arahabaki hisses, Chuuya attempts to push the voice out of his mind, but his temples begin to ache regardless.

Light floods his vision, and he realizes that Dazai had in fact led him onto the roof. The sky sill bright blue, and afternoon traffic beginning to flood in as people got off of work. No doubt plenty would want to enjoy the weather, and Chuuya would have to rush home to lose himself in something strong. Arahabaki seems to be rattling his entire body, light jabs and needle like pains along both of his legs, lead to his knees buckling.

Chuuya bites down, bracing to hit the concrete, but sturdy arms catch him.

"Sorry I didn't notice earlier," Dazai mutters, removing his gloves and pressing his bare hand to Chuuya's neck. The red disappears almost instantly, with something that felt like Arahabaki cursing him out. Chuuya struggles to open his mouth, so instead stays silent.

Dazai, to which Chuuya is grateful, says nothing. Instead he holds his hand in the same place, and his cool skin gently soothes away the pain and feverish feeling that Chuuya had begun feeling.

Chuuya leans into the touch, desperate for the pain to stay gone forever.

"Thanks," Chuuya says, his voice scratchy.

Neither of them move for a long time. Dazai eventually shifts so that he is next to Chuuya rather than kneeling in front of him. They keep in contact though, Dazai's hand always lingering somewhere.

"It's gotten worse, hasn't it?" Dazai asks, and Chuuya swallows hard.

"Not really worse, just more often,"

"Mori still hasn't figured anything out that could help?"

"No, he- Mori doesn't want to risk losing corruption as a weapon."

"Of course he doesn't." Dazai responds, and there is something venomous to his tone. Chuuya studies his face, attempting to figure out what he meant, and what had changed his mood so quickly. "You're staring, Chuuya," Dazai smirks instead.

"Fuck you," Dazai blinks at him, eyes going wide. Then, he bursts out laughing. His hand clutches a little tighter against Chuuya's own, and Dazai hunches over, trying to cover his mouth. Chuuya takes his opposite hand, and swats at Dazai's shoulder. Landing a good blow, he huffs, preparing to set his hand down, but his balance slips and Chuuya ends up flopping against the roof.

"So we're partners again," Dazai smiles, and Chuuya's chest tightens. Because Dazai was right, they'd fallen so easily into working next to each other again. Dazai was still good at reading him, and had drug him up here when he noticed the slightest sign of Arahabaki. They'd both gotten back into the banter and arguments of their own accord, without hesitation. It had been only a day, and Chuuya had basically given up on hating the man.