Oxytocin

Summary: Mori sighed. A child shouldn't look like that. His heart in his throat, he pulled Dazai into a hug. Dad!Mori, oneshot.

Dazai tried to pull away.

Mori tugged the kid's arm closer, his fingers almost slipped. "Dazai-kun," he warned.

Dazai whined.

Mori continued washing the blood off. He sanitized the cut-a long slash with a razor, self inflicted-and bandaged it.

Dazai sat there, a limp doll with a sullen expression and dead eyes.

Mori sighed. A child shouldn't look like that. His heart in his throat, he pulled Dazai into a hug.

Dazai was stiff. He tried to pull away. To him, skin contact was usually seen as dangerous-touch tended to be followed by pain. But against the strength of an adult he couldn't do anything. Eventually he relaxed, letting Mori hug him. He hadn't been hugged in a long time.

XXX

Chuuya's clothes were torn and had been laid to the side. He had rescued Dazai and beaten Shibusawa with Corruption.

From what Mori had heard of tonight, six of Chuuya's friends had died to Shibusawa. The teenager had thrown himself at the enemy mastermind responsible with single minded revenge and anger more than anything else.

Dazai sat in one of the infirmary chairs. He had pulled out a red book to read, something about suicide. After several minutes of waiting, he gave up and went to go get some food.

Mori had finished picking out the splinters of various debris from Chuuya's skin. He swabbed the wounds with disinfectant. They were small enough that he could use regular band aids.

Chuuya shifted. He usually fell into unconscious for a few hours to recuperate after using Corruption. And right now, daybreak was rather close.

"Are you awake Chuuya-kun?" Mori asked, pausing.

The memories and words and emotions of a few hours agao were the first to hit Chuuya's mind. He sniffled desperately to keep himself from crying. His still ungloved hands were shaking. He was a mafia member now. He couldn't cry. And he definitely couldn't cry in front of his Boss.

Mori sensed the dillema and sat on the infirmary bed. He pulled Chuuya towards his chest, and let him stay there. Losing people you were close to was always a terrible experience.

The sobs were muffled by Mori's coat. Chuuya let out all of the angry tears and terrible, dreadful sorrow that is felt whenever someone loses someone close to them. He fisted his hands in Mori's jacket and took a sort of assurance in the safety of the warm darkness there-where everything is silent except for the quiet measured beat of a heart-no matter how brief it was, or that it would be mortifying if Dazai learned he had been crying.

XXX

"Dazai!" Chuuya yelled. His mouth was twisted into a grimace of annoyance, loathing, and disdain. The last two were notable, as they did not usually show up anymore.

Dazai chuckled, skipping around his partner, insulting him as he dodged away from lightning fast kicks. In his hands was Chuuya's hat, arguably his partner's most prized object. He had a dark gleam in his eye, his face lacking the more lighthearted expression he usually wore when messing with Chuuya.

Mori propped an elbow on his desk and rested his chin on his hand. He watched them with frown.

They always fought, that was just Dazai and Chuuya's relationship. But right now, they were fighting worse than usual, looking more like they had briefly reverted to what they were two years ago and on their first mission as partners.

Mori sighed, dropping his pen onto an unsigned document-it was also unread, important, and needed to be completed soon. It would have to wait.

He crossed the floor quietly, unnoticed. Mori plucked the hat from Dazai's hand and settled it on Chuuya's head. He drawled, "Dazai-kun, please don't steal Chuuya-kun's hat."

Dazai clicked his tongue and looked away. "Yes, Boss," he murmured.

Chuuya continued to glare at Dazai.

Mori's shoulders slumped. "Come here," he softly ordered.

The two boys turned to him. Chuuya willingly moved closer-while Dazai inched towards Mori, wary.

Mori waited a second for Dazai to be level with Chuuya. He stepped forward and enveloped them into a hug, keeping them on opposite sides.

It took them some time, but the boys calmed down.

After another glare at Dazai, Chuuya wrapped his arms around Mori's middle.

Mori's attention turned to Dazai. He relaxed his hold on the boy, letting Dazai know that he could go if he wanted.

Dazai made a small noise of resignation. He leaned into the hug, squishing his cheek against Mori's shoulder.

XXX

Mori found it hard to meet Dazai's gaze during that confrontation.

He reminded himself that he was doing what was best for Yokohama and the Port Mafia-the best way for them to create stability. He had to have that gifted business permit. Odasaku was the least damaging member to lose for the Port Mafia.

On the side...it was a different matter. Mori pushed Dazai out because he couldn't save him. He had to. Dazai could not remain here.

He ofered no reassurances, because he could not. He couldn't have Dazai turn to him. He couldn't have Dazai come back and pour his woes and the pain from the loss of his friend out of him.

He broke Dazai's trust with cold, steely eyes...and a smile.

XXX

Dazai had gotten out of prison...only to see the end.

Everything was falling apart for Dazai, everything he had built up over the past five years since he left the Port Mafia. It was neither a planned razing, nor a wanted one. It was simply watching several blocks of Yokohama burn. The Agency's office and dorms were compltetly gone. The buildings collapsed and contorted.

He could already see it. After the fire died, all that would be left was shells of buildings-twisted metal and cracked burnt plaster. Things that contained a history...but no life.

He felt an arm on his shoulder-it was a familar weight, somewhat steadying. Dazai hadn't expected Mori to be here.

Dazai gave in. His shoulders slumped. He tore his eyes away from the sight of his burning reality and hugged Mori with trembling arms. He felt like a child again. Hiding was easier here, in the dark, where he couldn't see the burning ruins.

"You're acting like it's all over," Mori remarked, harshly but not unkindly. "Buildings can be rebuilt."

"There's no turning back his plans now." Dazai spat, the words bitter acid in his mouth, "I lost."

"No...We haven't," Mori chided. He drew the frail body of Dazai closer, since he seemed to be falling apart in a similar manner to the burning wreck in front of them.

Dazai tensed. He pulled away. His  mind woke up from it's shocked state and desperately ran through all the angles Mori could have. "What are you suggesting?"

Mori smiled. "How about we all team up and find the Book together?"

Dazai rapidly blinked, surprised. "All?"

Mori nodded. He swept his eyes over the burning buildings. "It will take both the Agency and the Port Mafia if we don't want Dostoyevsky to get there first." His gaze turned back to Dazai, full of quiet certainty. "But we can do it."

A/N

I thought of Dad!Mori and hugging. Had to write it.

I can't read who the art is by at all. So credit to them...whoever they are.

-Silver