Title:Theme 11: Memory
Rating:
K+
Pairing:
None.
Warning:
Slight mention of dead bodies/gore.
Disclaimer: I don't own Detective Conan
Summery:
Conan sometimes wishes he didn't have such a good memory.

Theme 11: Memory

Conan sometimes hated his memories, especially in times like this.

He was laying on his futon, curled into the fetus position staring blankly at the wall. Kogoro was snoring from his bed and didn't seem to have a care in the world. Conan envied him for that.

The pint sized detective decided that something that he hated worse than white cloaked thieves and black wearing mobsters were nightmares. They were always there, becoming more and more frequent as time went by. They had gone from months in between to getting them nearly every other day.

All he kept seeing was dead bodies and the dead coming back to life and asking why he didn't stop the murder; that if he was such a good detective he should've known something would have happened.

Conan knew it wasn't logical, no detective could predict when someone was suddenly going to murder someone else but dreams were hardly ever logical and it still shook him up.

It was getting hard to sleep. He barely got three hours of sleep and people were starting to notice. The small figure took his pillow and covered his head, wether to block out the older man's snoring or his own horrible thoughts, he wasn't sure.

He slowly fell asleep, and he prayed for this time that he wouldn't have to watch as another person was murdered in front of him while he was helpless.

He could only hope…

Owari