Chapter Text
His back hurt. Not the kind of hurt that came from getting hit with a crowbar. He was used to that.
No, it was the dull, throbbing ache of walking around collecting money for eight hours straight. Tom had already gone home for the day.
Shizuo had stopped under a streetlight, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.
He needed five minutes. Just five minutes to relax before finally going home.
He lit up the cigarette, closing his eyes as he inhaled.
For just a second, he could pretend he wasn't standing in the middle of the most irritating district in Tokyo.
He could finally breathe.
That was until his eye caught the sight of a flickering vending machine across the street. A brief urge to kick it crossed his mind, to see if it would fix the light.
He took another drag, the end of the cigarette glowing bright orange in the dim lighting of the street lights.
Clang.
Shizuo turned his head as a sudden sound tore through the silence, coming from the mouth of the narrow alleyway to his left.
The distinct, hollow rattle of a metal trash can hitting pavement cut through the air, followed by a scraping sound and a heavy thud.
"The hell…?" He muttered, irritated. A cat?
No.
It was too loud. Too heavy. The sound of someone struggling to stand up and failing.
Must have been a drunk.
Shizuo crushed the cigarette under his heel in annoyance, already prepared to toss whoever they were into the next prefecture.
"Oi," He barked, turning the corner, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "If you're gonna pass out, do it somewhere el-"
The words died in his throat.
A figure was slumped back against the brick wall, next to the toppled-over trash can.
The silhouette was familiar. Far too familiar.
The fur-lined coat, the slim build.
Shizuo felt a spark of rage consume him instantly, reaching out to pick up the trash can. "Izaya..."
Izaya's eyes widened in panic as he looked up at him, only briefly.
"Crap…! Shizu-cha…" His words were hoarse and slurred, the honorific breaking off into a cough as he tried to scramble backward, clutching his jacket to himself, almost protectively to hide the ripped shirt underneath it.
Almost immediately, his arms gave out and he collapsed. He was panting, shallow breaths escaping his mouth, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat.
He was visibly shaking.
Shizuo stopped dead in his tracks, realizing almost immediately that something wasn't right.
He dropped the trash can and took a step forward, his brow furrowing.
"Hey," He uttered, almost reflexively, as he approached him. "...The hell's wrong with you…?"
No response. Izaya’s eyes darted around, at his surroundings, at the trash around him, at everywhere but him.
With quickly growing frustration, Shizuo found himself reaching out. "Damn it. Iza-"
"Don't touch me…!" Izaya flinched violently, moving away in an attempt to dodge the hand, crashing into some kind of metal as his hand hit a nearby drink can, knocking it over.
"Alright, fine...! I won't." Shizuo retracted his hand immediately and stepped back slightly as he stared at the trembling mess on the ground, a sour taste rising in his throat.
Izaya… He was supposed to be laughing, or throwing knives. Trying to piss him off, pick a fight with him, or something.
Even now, he still wanted to tell himself it was some kind of sick prank just to get him to let his guard down.
That it must have been.
But Shizuo wasn't stupid.
And Izaya wouldn't put himself in a position like this willingly.
No, Shizuo had been around this area and dealt with people in the underground long enough to recognize at least some of this behavior.
Barely able to stand. Erratic behavior, but no smell of alcohol. He must have been drugged or taken something.
"Tch." He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he went over the possible steps he could take.
Ever since he had known Izaya, he had been nothing but a pain in his ass, but seeing him like this?
How was he even supposed to handle a situation like this?
What would he normally do?
Well, normally, he'd just beat the bastard senseless, but he wasn't going to hit a person that was already this far down, even if it was Izaya.
It wasn't a fair fight if he couldn't even defend himself. And 'don't touch me'? What the fuck was that about?
He was acting like he was afraid of something.
In that moment, every fiber in Shizuo's being screamed at him to toss him out of Ikebukuro and leave him there to rot.
Whatever had happened to him was probably his own fault anyways and he deserved it.
And yet, deep down, Shizuo knew that was wrong.
To leave Izaya - or anybody for that matter - to just suffer when he was like this, afraid of even being touched...
Shizuo knew he couldn't do that.
No, that's something Izaya would do. And Shizuo refused to stoop to his level, no matter how much he detested him.
"Look... just..." He sighed, scratching the back of his head aggressively. "Don't move. I'm calling Shinra."
Reluctantly, he pulled out his phone as he turned his back to him. He stepped a few feet away in an attempt to give Izaya some space and keep some kind of guard over him in case somebody happened to be passing by.
Shinra was a doctor. Whatever was wrong with him, he would handle it.
This was none of his business.
Sighing, Shizuo unlocked the screen and found Shinra's name in the list of contacts before pressing the call button.
He waited for a moment as it dialed out, until finally there was a click and Shinra picked up.
"Hello?" Shinra spoke up from the other end.
Shizuo sighed before his eyes caught the flickering of the vending machine again. For now, he ignored it. "Shinra, hey. It's me. Listen. I'm in West Ikebukuro right now, and I just came across Izaya… He's… I think he may have taken something. There's something wrong with him."
He didn't want to use the word drugged because it was only an assumption.
"...What? Wrong how? Is he conscious?" Shinra inquired.
"Well, yeah, he's awake, if that's what you're asking…" Shizuo said simply. "But he's having trouble standing and he yelled at me when I tried to touch him. You think you could come pick him up…? I'd rather not have to kill him while he's like this."
"Sure, I guess I could. Celty's not here right now, so I'll have to take my van. Where are you right now?"
"Um… It's…" Shizuo trailed off for a moment as he considered his surroundings. "You know the Rosa Kaikan? We're in an alleyway a few blocks down the road from that. Actually, screw it, I'll just send you the address."
He typed it into a message and sent it to him. "You get that?"
"Let me check… Oh. Yeah, I know exactly where that is. Alright. I'm getting in my car now. I should be there in about ten minutes." In the background, Shizuo could hear a door being slammed shut. "Can you tell me if he's injured anywhere? Or do you not know?"
"I'm not sure. I did notice his clothes are a bit torn."
"His clothes?"
"Yeah, or at least his shirt is. But I don't see any blood or anything, so…" He trailed off when the sudden thought crossed his mind.
Ripped clothing.
Sweating.
The way he was clutching his clothes to himself.
Signs of drugging.
And not just that, but the way he had yelled to not touch him-
…No.
It couldn't be.
Shizuo was certain he was going to be sick.
"I see." Shinra mused on the other end, his tone unreadable. There was a long silence before he spoke back up. "Could you hand the phone to Orihara-kun? I need to talk with him... Shizuo?"
"...Sorry, I'll set it down next to him..." Shizuo took a moment to recover from the thought as he turned on speaker mode and placed the phone down beside Izaya. "I just turned the speaker on."
Izaya barely spared it a glance before turning his face away, bitterly.
"Thank you, Shizuo… Orihara-kun. Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I hear you…" Izaya murmured, barely audible.
Shinra’s voice softened immediately at the sound of Izaya’s answer, dropping into something quieter, almost gentle. “Good. How are you feeling?"
"'m fine…" Izaya muttered. It was a blatant lie. One Shinra didn't hesitate to call him out on.
"...I think you and I both know that's not true… Otherwise, Shizuo wouldn't have called me just now…"
Izaya's eyes seemed to narrow in annoyance at the reminder. "...Tch. Yeah, well, quite frankly it's none of your business…"
Shizuo scowled. Even now, when he was incapacitated, Izaya was still being difficult.
For the moment, he bit his tongue, trusting that Shinra knew Izaya well enough to talk to him in a way that he himself couldn't.
Fortunately, unlike Shizuo, Shinra didn't seem bothered by it.
"Well, at least your sarcasm is intact. That's a good sign for your neurological function." He noted briskly, with a hint of amusement. "But, unfortunately, since I'm currently speeding on an open highway in a medical transport van to come and get to you, I've decided to make it my business. Humor me. Do you feel hot? Cold? Is your heart racing? I need to know what I'm working with."
Izaya clutched his jacket tighter to himself, holding a hand over his mouth, not responding.
Assuming he was just ignoring him at first, Shizuo slammed a hand into the wall beside him, causing the metal to dent. "Stop screwing around and answer the damn question!"
"I'm trying to…!" Izaya snapped in annoyance, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and anger.
Before Shizuo had time to process it, Shinra cut in sharply. "Shizuo, stop yelling at him. Orihara-kun, listen. It's okay. Just try to breathe for me. Can you do that?"
"...I feel sick…" Izaya finally admitted, struggling to sit up as he leaned back against the wall.
"You feel sick?"
"Mn… Yeah… jus'..." Izaya uttered, leaning his head back against the wall for only a second before he lurched forward, Shizuo watching in horror as he threw up onto both himself and the concrete beneath him.
"Whoa-!" Shizuo instinctively jumped back a step to avoid it, his hands coming out of his pockets.
"What's going on? What just happened? Orihara-kun?"
"He threw up…" Shizuo said, covering his face with his sleeve as he took another step back, the harsh odor of the vomit filling the air around him. "Ugh. I'm gonna go get him a bottle of water from the vending machine…"
"What? Wait, Shizuo! You can't just leave him like that!"
"I'm not." Shizuo muttered in annoyance, moving his hands back into his pockets. "I'm just going around the corner for a moment. I'll be right back."
He ignored any further protests Shinra had and walked back out into the street.
It was at that moment that his eye suddenly caught the sight of a teenager who had apparently noticed the commotion and was peeking around the corner.
"What the hell are you looking at?" He sent him a death glare. "This is none of your business, kid! Go on! Scram!"
It only took a split second for the boy to recognize who he was and he immediately ran off screaming.
Sighing in annoyance, Shizuo walked over to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet and counting out the amount of money he needed. He fed the bills through the machine and made his selection.
When the bottle of water popped out, he grabbed it with some mild irritation as he thought back to Izaya's erratic behavior.
His jaw tightened, and, briefly, he began to wonder if he had made things worse somehow. He didn't mean to make him puke, he just wanted answers.
The way he snapped just now... I've never seen him like that.
It wasn't like Izaya to become that defensive over anything. In fact, in all the years he had known him, Izaya never lost his composure. He was always smirking and provoking people around him just to piss them off and get their reaction.
So for him to be acting this way, it must have been something awful, even for a guy like that to face.
If that was the case, then Shizuo knew that forcing him to talk wasn't an option.
And as much as he hated Izaya, somehow the idea of poking and prodding at somebody who was clearly mentally unstable revolted him even more.
No. Whatever questions he had would have to wait. Truth be told, some part of him didn't care what caused it, he just wanted this to be over and done with. To never have to see his face again.
It wasn't like he was his friend. Any other day and he'd have killed the bastard.
But if his suspicion was right and there was some guy out there who had the audacity to do something like that to Izaya of all people, he'd probably done it to others as well and just the thought of that was enough to make him sick.
The plastic at the bottle crinkled in his hand as he tried to keep himself calm. He sighed shakily, before heading back around the corner.
Back into the alleyway where Izaya was. Izaya had leaned back against the wall again, next to the phone.
"Here." He said, placing the water bottle down in front of him a bit harsher than necessary. "Drink this."
Izaya glanced up at it, barely, but didn't move to take it. He lowered his head, his bangs shadowing his eyes.
"Hey, Shinra. Ya still there?" Shizuo asked.
"Yeah, I'm here. Is everything okay? He wasn't responding, so I didn't know what had happened."
"I don't think he wants to talk…" Shizuo muttered. "He's sitting against the wall right now."
"You got him the water, right?"
"Yeah. I just gave it to him. By the way, do you have an idea of how much longer it'll be before you get here…?"
"Not too long. Should be there in about five minutes… It's-"
Beep.
"What was that just now…?" Shizuo rose an eyebrow.
"Sorry, it's my phone… I think it's about to die. Crap, I knew I should have charged it earlier…! Look, just keep an eye on him until I get there, okay? I should-"
Before Shinra could finish the sentence, the phone cut off.
The alleyway was now silent.
Shizuo sighed, eventually taking out another one of his cigarettes, and lighting it up.
He took in a puff of it, before titling his head back and closing his eyes, the burning sensation in his throat suddenly more satisfying than ever.
For just a moment, he tried to forget the fact that he was here.
Of all the people he could have come across, it just had to be him, didn't it?
The same bastard who had made his life a living hell for years now.
The same bastard he had wanted dead ever since he met him.
Now he was just supposed to suddenly be complicit and babysit him?
Screw that.
This changed absolutely nothing.
Once Shinra got here, he was leaving.
And the next time he saw Izaya in Ikebukuro again, he really would kill him.
"...Heh."
Shizuo glanced over when a sound suddenly left Izaya's lips.
He was laughing-the bastard.
"What are you..." Shizuo felt a flash of anger wash over him, but it evaporated just as quickly when noticed the way Izaya's fingers were digging into his scalp.
Repetitively.
Anxiously.
"Ah... ha... haha..." Izaya kept his face hidden, burying his head in his arms.
His voice cracked.
Only then did Shizuo realize it.
That Izaya Orihara was crying.
For the longest time, the cigarette hung loosely from his lips.
The sound echoed in his head, refusing to settle.
It made Shizuo's skin crawl. A sound that shouldn't exist in nature, especially not coming from that mouth.
Feeling more helpless than he imagined possible, he looked away, focusing intently on a stain on the asphalt, anything to avoid looking at Izaya’s trembling hands.
It was all he could do to take a long drag, trying to burn away the weird feeling in his gut.
...
Time had passed.
All Izaya could process in that moment was that his body felt wrong.
Like it didn't belong to him anymore.
Hands were everywhere.
They wouldn't let him go - He wouldn't.
Every instinct inside of him screamed at him to run, but he couldn't. His legs felt like they had been replaced with lead, heavy and useless beneath him. Everything felt so cold, yet hot at the same time.
He could barely breathe.
Sweat drenched his forehead.
The smell of vomit ripped through his lungs, reminding him all over again just how filthy he was.
And then there was the smoke.
Tobacco. Cheap and acrid.
Somewhere through the haze of his swaying vision, a blurry shadow loomed over him, blonde hair glowing faintly under the moonlight.
Shizuo.
That monster.
Why was he just standing there?
Normally, there would be a screech of metal, the impact of a vending machine, or something.
So why?
Why hadn't he killed him?
He had had every opportunity to and yet Shizuo hadn't attacked him once this whole time.
Why shouldn't he? It made no sense.
Just because he was like this?
The water bottle Shizuo had placed down in front of him caught Izaya's sight again, and his throat burned with unshed tears.
It was humiliating.
Shizuo had no business calling Shinra about this.
He had no business calling anybody.
Showing him pity.
Izaya's hand fell to his side against the pavement, a weak, pathetic attempt to find a weapon, a stone, anything. But he had nothing.
His knives were gone, taken from him by the bastard that had done this to him.
He remained on the ground, his vision darkening. Spinning.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered crying.
Why exactly?
He could barely recall.
It felt like hours ago, even if it had only been a few minutes.
The only proof that he had done so was the blood on his fingernails, his scalp still sore from digging at it.
Briefly, Shizuo had started to speak, but then he had stopped.
He probably thinks I've gone crazy.
He felt disgusted even thinking about it, that of all the people that could have come across him like this - to see him when he was this weak - it had to be him.
He reached up, clutching onto his ripped shirt in frustration as another wave of nausea washed over him. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore it.
But the darkness only made it worse somehow, impossible to channel it out.
The memories of that man on top of him.
Inside of him.
Touching him everywhere-Stop touching me.
Bile rose to his throat, and it was everything he could do just to hold it back, even swallow the vomit just so that monster wouldn't see him throw up for a second time.
So he wouldn't have an excuse to-
Izaya's nails dug into the skin behind his ear attempting to cut himself off from thinking about it.
But the nausea and urge to vomit only became ten times worse and he finally collapsed, emptying out the contents of his stomach entirely this time.
He tried not to get it on his clothes this time, though it was pointless. They were already soiled. Wet and filthy. He was covered in it.
Somewhere in the distance he suddenly heard a car door slam. And he flinched, some part of him waiting for him to come back.
Was it them? Had they come back after him, after all?
He curled inwards, waiting for the inevitable blow. Waiting for the hands to return, for real this time, but they never did.
Instead, there were footsteps.
Fast. Clipped. Hasty against the pavement.
Then, voices.
They washed over him in a garbled, distorted wave.
"Where is he?"
Too loud to focus, but easy to recognize as Shinra.
Shinra…?
Why was he here?
Oh. Right, Shizuo had called him.
"...He's back here."
Izaya shielded his ears from the sound, his head feeling like it was splitting open.
Too loud. Their voices were too loud.
He could barely focus on what they were saying.
Slowly, footsteps approached him.
Izaya forced one eye open, the lid heavy and uncooperative.
Through the haze, a blurry shape came into focus. A white coat. Glasses.
Shinra. He was kneeling down next to him with a medical kit.
"Orihara-kun? Hey…"
Loud. Too loud.
And then Shinra lowered his voice.
The words he spoke next were illegible, but the tone… It was soft.
Soothing.
He almost sounded worried.
Hah.
What a joke.
He must have been hallucinating, after all.
Because Shinra never worried about him.
This was the same guy who had hung up on him when he was in the hospital after being stabbed and told him to die.
"Orihara-kun…"
The voice cut through the ringing in his ears again and through his blurred vision, Izaya saw the white coat shift. Shinra was moving closer. Reaching out.
Fingers wrapped around the bruises on his wrist, brushing against the finger nail scratches that that man had left.
No.
Panic flared in Izaya's chest, hot and suffocating.
He pulled his hand away instinctively, fear consuming him.
What was he doing?
Don't.
Shinra was the last person Izaya wanted to see him like this.
To touch him.
He was filthy. He smelled of bile and sweat and him.
That man.
He had taken everything.
Every bit of control he had.
Disgusting.
Don't look at me.
"It's alright… just checking your pulse." Shinra's muffled voice assured him, his grip tightening ever so slightly.
Just stop touching me.
Please.
Anybody but him.
Colors suddenly blended together, making it impossible to tell what was what anymore.
Izaya blinked, trying to clear the static from his vision, but it only got worse.
He buried his face in his arm, closing his eyes yet again.
He was certain he was going to be hit.
That that bastard was going to yell at him again for vomiting.
Any second now, his clothes would be ripped off of him, just like before.
And just maybe he really would be killed this time.
After all, it would have been the perfect opportunity for Shizuo, given how weak he was.
Isn't this what he wanted?
It's what Shizuo had always wanted.
"It looks like there's blood on his nails. Do you know if he's been scratching himself anywhere?" Shinra's voice cut through his garbled thoughts.
Izaya felt his stomach drop when the topic was brought up, a harsh reminder of tearing into his scalp. Something that at the time, he had barely even processed himself doing.
He wanted to lie. To deny it, but he knew it was pointless. It wasn't as though Shizuo hadn't been standing right there to notice something like that.
"Scratching? Now that you mention it, he was sorta digging at his head earlier… I didn't realize he was actually hurting himself, though..."
Stop talking already, just-
A light. Shinra's fingers flipped through Izaya's hair, checking the damage he had done to his head, causing any possible response he could have given to get stuck in his throat.
Before he knew what happened, he suddenly found himself flipped onto his back as a bright light pierced through his eyes.
It was Shinra, he was shining his penlight in his face. Judging by the firm grip of the hands on his shoulders, Shizuo was the one who had turned him over.
"Nngh..." Izaya squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to avoid the light.
"His pupils are dilated... Reaction time is sluggish…" Shinra’s voice floated through the air, sounding detached. Clinical.
The light clicked off, but the spots dancing in Izaya's vision remained.
"Given the tremors and sweating… guess is likely GHB… possibly some kind of benzodiazepine as well… need to take his vitals… Would you mind helping me? He'll have to…" Shinra's voice kept fading in and out. He could barely concentrate on it, between the fact that Shizuo was touching him and the ringing in his ears.
Everything was too loud. Too bright. His body felt like it was on fire. Anxiety consumed him.
Stop-he wanted it to stop.
Right as the urge to move away crossed him, something was suddenly being wrapped around his arm. Blood pressure cuff most likely.
Right as he realized it, another object was simultaneously being stuck in his mouth.
Thermometer? It had to be, right?
"It's just as I thought… Both his blood pressure and heart rate are low."
"What's his temperature at? He feels like he's burning up."
"...40.3 degrees celsius… Hm..."
Shinra then murmured something to himself about temperature spikes and high doses of GHB, before bringing up the possibility that it could be psychogenic.
"Psycho what?" Shizuo huffed.
"Psychogenic, as in stress related..."
Shinra continued to say something else, sounding uncharacteristically frantic, but Izaya's memory of the moment lapsed again until he realized he was being lifted up.
Shizuo, that brute, was carrying him somewhere.
His eyes widened and he immediately tried to fight back. His hand lashed out weakly to swipe at his face. "Let go…"
"Oi, stop that…" Shizuo muttered. "I'm just taking you to the car..."
Car?
"What… Car…?" The words left his mouth, slurred and uneven.
"Shinra's… He's putting you on an IV."
IV? Needle?
"No, no more! I can't!" They had already pumped him with enough drugs as it was. If they put anything else in him, he knew he was going to pass out. He didn't know how much more he could take.
"Izaya-hey, calm down!" Shizuo called out.
"Let go of me!" Izaya's fingernails scraped against Shizuo’s cheek, his nails drawing blood in the frantic effort to get away.
"Damn it, flea, quit squirming! You're gonna fall!" Shizuo growled, with irritation, adjusting his grip and effectively trapping him against his chest.
Izaya gasped, struggling to breathe.
The sensation of being restrained, it was the final straw.
The crushing weight of a stronger body against his. The inability to move his arms.
It was happening again.
A strangled sound tore from his throat, not a word this time, but a noise of pure, animalistic terror.
"Shinra! Do something!" Shizuo barked, sounding genuinely out of his depth. "He's freaking out! Can't you sedate him or something?!"
"No more sedatives!" Izaya snapped. "I won't! Anymore and I'll pass out!"
"Orihara-kun! It's alright…! I'm not going to sedate you. I'm just giving you some saline to help hydrate you. That's all."
"Saline…?" Izaya paused, looking back at him with uncertainty.
"Yes. Just saline. It's perfectly harmless." Shinra's voice seemed reassuring, but, even then, Izaya was unsure.
His eyes darted around the area as some disoriented part of him tried to formulate a response.
Four hours.
For four hours straight, he had been repeatedly injected with something to keep him weakened while that bastard assaulted him.
Why should he suddenly trust any kind of medication just because it came from Shinra?
He didn't.
"...Tell you what." Shinra spoke back up again, softer than before. "If you be a good patient and cooperate with me, I'll get you some Otoro later. The premium kind."
...Otoro?
The offer was almost absurd. Laughable even.
A cheap attempt at manipulating him is what it was. As if his cooperation could be bought with something like fish.
He looked away, scoffing. Wanting to refuse.
But the signal to his mouth never connected, the fight draining from him in mere seconds.
The adrenaline that had spiked at the mention of the IV vanished, leaving him feeling hollowed out, too exhausted to speak.
He knew he couldn't fight them like this. Shizuo was too strong. If he tried to resist any further, he would just hold him down more.
So, in the end, he caved, his eyelids feeling too heavy to keep open.
His fingers, which had been clawing at Shizuo's vest, went slack, and his shoulders dropped.
It was all the surrender he would give them.
Moments later, he heard them talking again before he was placed on his side on something soft. A stretcher? Most likely.
Firm hands pulled his sleeve back and then another wiped something wet on his arm. Disinfectant? Probably.
After that, there was a prick. He winced, but didn't pull away. Slowly, a cold sensation consumed him, one he immediately recognized to be saline.
That's when a paper towel was harshly scrubbed over him, cleaning up the area where he had thrown up on himself.
Shizuo then said something else, but izaya couldn't make it out. It was probably directed at Shinra.
Seconds later the door slid shut and it didn't take much to recognize that Shizuo had left.
Finally, Shinra spoke back up, catching his attention. "Orihara-kun? Hey. Can you look at me for a moment?"
"Huh?" Izaya opened his eyes, facing the blurred image of the doctor who was standing above him. He was unfolding some kind of blanket.
"I'm taking you back to my place now. I'll need to keep you under observation until I know the drugs are out of your system." He announced, placing the cover over him. "Just let me know if you need anything, alright?"
"Yeah. Whatever." It was all Izaya could manage before turning his head back over.
As the lights turned off and the car began driving. Within minutes of just listening to the low rumble of the van, Izaya felt himself slowly beginning to relax, the warmth of the blanket helping to ground him.
The world around him faded, and it wasn't long before he slipped into unconsciousness.