The Nightmares of My Reality
Burning, it was like everything was on fire. Sweat dribbled down his back, soaking his t-shirt. He looked around. Past the orange glow (flames?), there were only shadows (careful!). They reached as far as the eye could see. And despite the heat, a shiver ran down his back (why?).
There was something there, in the shadows. There was something lurking and grinning. Watching. (It's dangerous!)
Why? Why? Why?
The question rang in his ears. The sound was sharp and painful. Piercing.
There was something important, but he couldn't recall what it was. It was— he was— he should—
Damn it, why couldn't he remember!
But it was just so difficult to think. To concentrate, to analyze. (Why?). The blistering heat took up everything. There was no place for anything else.
Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it! A slight panic began to rise up. Making his muddled thoughts even more confusing.
He was burning, melting. It hurt.
And he should know—know what was waiting for him beyond in the dark.
It was like the darkness was coming closer–closing in on him–suffocating him.
His sight became blurry, colors blended together.
Suddenly it became hard to breathe, and he gasped for air.
A panicked sound escaped him.
No! No, no, no, no, no!
But his eyes became heavier and heavier. And the never-ending darkness was growing closer.
You'll never escape. It's useless. Give it up.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
No! No, no, no, no, no!
Stop it! Stop! I have to—
"–onan-kun?"
"Huh?"
"Conan-kun?"
A cold hand appeared on his forehead. Wiping strands of sweat-soaked hair out of his face. He breathed out and opened his eyes. In the faint light, a blurry face came into view. Ran.
"Are you awake now? You are burning up and were having a nightmare."
Oh.
He swallowed and nodded slightly up and down.
A nightmare.
He shivered. His sweat-soaked t-shirt clung to his back.
"You should drink some water, Conan-kun, otherwise you'll dehydrate. Can you sit up? Come, I'll help you."
Oh, right. He was Conan-kun. And not–
Not Shinichi. Not Kudo Shinichi, the great high school detective.
Suddenly the depressing reality of it all came crashing down (again), and he clutched the blanket tightly.
How long—for how long had he to continue playing this character and lying to his loved ones?
Maybe forever.
He shook his head. Stop.
You'll never escape. It's useless. Give it up.
Again, that voice rang in his ears. And it made him shiver with more than the fever.
Forever. Forever you"ll—
No. Stop. Stop being so negative, he scolded himself mentally, this isn't like you!
He shook his head again that was pounding now, pulsing painfully in time with his heartbeat. Damn it, it had to be the fever.
"Are you alright, Conan-kun? Is there something with your head? Do you have a headache?"
He looked up, Ran was crouching next to him with a glass of water in her hand and paracetamol.
"Uh, no don't worry, Ran-neechan. It's nothing."
He tried to smile his usual smile at her, but he couldn't make it work. Not today.
She looked at him, studying him, with worry in her eyes. He swallowed again. He didn't want to make the woman he loved worry about him, he didn't want to see that look on her face. Not ever.
Every time he left her behind with some bullshit excuse. Every time he had to lie.
But he had no choice, he had to protect her—had to protect everyone. And in order to do that, he had to remain Conan, and play this character he had created.
I'm sorry, Ran. I'm sorry.
Suddenly, his throat was tight. And he had to look away from her.
It was hard to breathe for a moment, and he had to breathe in and out a few times before the distorted room around him became clear again.
He sniffed. Damn it, so uncool.
"Conan-kun?"
But right now, he was still a kid, right?
Yes, right now, he was Conan-kun.
He smiled bitterly to himself, and he actually wanted to laugh at it all, even if it was not a laughing matter at all. Not even close.
He turned back to Ran who was still watching him with worried eyes and took from her the glass of water.
After one small sip, he noticed how thirsty he truly was and downed the whole glass.
After changing into a fresh t-shirt, he lay down again, totally exhausted, and he shivered despite the warm room.
A soft hand appeared again on his forehead, and he opened his tired eyes.
She smiled softly at him.
"Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."
He nodded.
When she was at the door, she turned around and whispered:
"Sleep well, Conan-kun."
He gave a soft nod and closed his eyes.
And he hoped that the nightmares of his reality wouldn't follow him into his sleep this time.
Hello :)
This is my first time writing something for the Detective Conan fandom! I hope this fic is alright. I got the idea for this fic after watching ova 9.
I really love D.C! And after 3 years of following the series (I took huge breaks in between) I finally caught up! Yay XD.
All the mistakes are mine.
Tell me what you think and I hope you enjoyed!