Title: seven-percent
Fandom: Detective Conan
Author: AngelicSentinel
Rating: Teen
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi/Mouri Ran
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Identity Reveal, Injury, Imprisonment, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Unethical Experimentation
Summary: Ran finds out at the worst possible time Shinichi is Conan. Now she's got to break them both out of the Black Organisation's lab, but time is running out.
Ran's shaking. The cell is rough and damp and cold; she thinks a pipe's broken somewhere, she hears the sound of dripping water, it puddles at her knees. Shinichi lies in her lap, unconscious, body fever hot, tossing and turning and clutching at his chest. She holds him close, pulls as much of him as she can up to her knees to keep him out of the water, arms around his chest, patting his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear. His shoulder is a mess of bandages and blood, and he's breathing hard, and shaking as well, and they've taken away anything of hers that could be used to help him.
Two men; one with cold, cold eyes and long silver hair and a laugh made from pain, another with sunglasses and a square chin and a large frame blocking off the end of the alley as they turned from leaving the restaurant. Ran closes her eyes for a long moment, the scene flitting in front of her eyes, clear as day: Shinichi steps in front of her, ever protective, hand outstretched and touching her arm as she steps closer behind him, almost touching him but not quite, bringing her arms up as she keeps the two in her view.
There's an exchange of words she can barely hear over the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. Silver-hair (why does he look so familiar?) pulls out a gun and trains it on Shinichi. Ran's moving before she can blink, before she can even think, she kicks it out of his hands and down into the gutter with a precise aim, pulls her arms close, her feet shoulder-width apart, ready for anything. He lunges at her, but she's not a karate champion for nothing, and she ducks between his reach and punches his solar plexus as hard as she can, causing him to grunt. He's winded but he reaches for her hair and misses; she brings her foot around and kicks him in the head, knocking him down to his knees, and then again in the temple. He goes out like a light.
One down, one to go. Shinichi hasn't been idle; he's kicked the thug's gun out of his hand using a bottle, but the man's advanced on him, backing him up to the wall, and he has no more ammunition at his feet. Ran sees red but she knows anger is her enemy; she takes a deep breath and then she's closing the space between them as fast as she can, punching the man in the sunglasses.
He's deceptively quick, and her fist cracks the wall. She turns, but it's already too late. He has his gun to Shinichi's head. Shinichi's starting to sweat, his teeth clenched. He staggers a couple of feet forward, hand over his heart. "Not now!" she hears him mutter under his breath, a trace of fear like she's never heard in his voice. The gun follows him.
"Heh, sorry Ran," he says. "Don't worry, I'll get us out of this," he says with a confident grin.
Ran doesn't believe him. How can she? He looks like he's about to keel over at any second. She takes a deep breath, centers herself. She has to find a way out of this.
That's enough for the man to jab the gun at his head. Shinichi winces. "Him or me, girlie. What's it gonna be?" he says.
"You know as well as I do it's going to be both of us," Ran says quietly. "I could get you, but not before you shot him." She's quick, but not that quick. If Shinichi were well enough to dodge...but he's barely keeping himself standing.
"Ran, you need to go," Shinichi says, and he pants, falls to his hands and knees. At first Ran thinks it's a feint, waits for him to sweep the man's legs out from under him so she can act and get them both out of there, but nothing.
"Not without you," Ran says, shaking her head. It's a stand-off. One way or another, it's not going to end well. She doesn't see a way out of this.
"Bro," the man says, and she whirls to see the other one with silver hair wipe blood from his lip, then stagger to his feet.
"Stupid bitch," he says.
"Bro?" Square-chin and sunglasses says.
He grins wickedly. "We can use her. Stop messing around and get 'em both." He turns; Ran uses that time to kick his legs out from under him, only for square-chin to shoot Shinichi. Shinichi lets out a cry, falling to the ground, breath coming even faster now as blood spills from his shoulder.
Ran instantly freezes. "That's better," she hears from silver hair, then he pistol-whips her in the face, and she knows no more.
She wakes cold and freezing and half-naked in the same cell as Shinichi. It's damp and feels like it's underground, close to the water. There's an incessant drip that's easily ignored at first, but the longer she sits, the louder it grows. She's barefoot, in nothing but the thin lacy camisole she was wearing under her blouse and a pair of shorts; even her bra has been taken away. She desperately hopes it wasn't those two men. Ran shudders at the idea of them touching her.
Shinichi's in front of her. She kneels down and shakes and shakes and shakes and shakes him, but he doesn't wake. They've stripped him too, leaving him in nothing but jeans and a bandage around his shoulder. He's burning up, but the fact that he's sweating gives her a little bit of hope. If she just had something she could use the dripping water to cool his head, but she doesn't, so she pulls him into her lap to keep him from the water and strokes his hair.
"Shinichi," she says, "please wake up. Please." She can't stop her voice from catching.
Ran doesn't know how long she kneels there, her legs falling asleep from the cold stone, and Shinichi's weight, the iron bars of the dimly lit prison cold sentinels.
And then Shinichi lets out a gasp, and things go from bad to worse.