Strange what thoughts demand to be written at three in the morning...and it only took six hours over two days? I think this might be one of the fastest things I've ever written.

Standard Disclaimer:

No, I do not own Detective Conan. Not even a single manga volume or anime episode. But why buy when the internet provides them for free?

A glass shatters against the white linoleum tile. Wedgewood tumbler, Peringsford collection, circa 1987. Water gushes forth along the grout lines, slowly spreading throughout the kitchen floor. A thousand crystal shards twinkle in the harsh, flourescent light, each one a silent mirror gamely reflecting the horror of a boy falling off the edge of the world.

"Shinichi? We're sorry, we're so, so sorry..."

Halfway across the globe, Yukiko Kudo shakily deposited the telephone receiver, staring at her own hand, staring, staring, unable to comprehend what she'd just done. Her fingers are still shaking, she thinks, what do they have to be trembling about? It's not like I'm the one whose life is destroyed. Really, there's no need for me to be trembling at all. After all, we planned this. We decided this had to be done. We agreed this was the right thing to do. And we were so tired...

Looking over at her husband, sitting on the bed like he may never stand again, she opens her mouth to speak. But strangely enough, no words escape her lips. Maybe the prior conversation had robbed her of the gift of words, it would serve her right. Or perhaps it's the dead gaze in Yusaku's eyes, the hollow nothingness staring into oblivion that stills her guilt-ridden tongue. She doesn't know, and the words won't come. She just stares, waiting for something, anything to break the silence.

Far away, water spreads further among the tiles. The distant echo of a phone clattering against the floor wafts along the breeze.

It had all started out innocently enough. Just one teensy little phone call, a few words spoken with an old, old friend – they'd known each other for ages, he'd toasted them at their wedding, sent Shinichi his first soccer ball for his fifth birthday – wanted to make sure the boy didn't stay inside all day reading Holmes and wind up like his old man, he jokingly claimed. She'd been so worried about Shinichi, how could someone do that to her little boy, and while Shin-chan claimed he'd find a cure himself, take down the organization that did this to him, she couldn't just sit around and do nothing. So she called Taro-san, and within a few minutes, had related everything.

How was she to know the Black Organization stretched so close to home?

Dammit, she trusted him, the asshole! He wasn't supposed to be the enemy! Not the man who sent her lilies every birthday, critiqued Yusaku's latest works, sent them on that wonderful Mediterranean cruise for their ten year anniversary. How could he? And now she couldn't even slap the bastard since he took the cowards way out with that pistol. At least he felt guilty enough to end his own life. Small consolation.

Within the span of a few short hours, the Black Organization had held them hostage in their hotel room, automatic rifles trained on their heads. Yusaku and Yukiko had thought this was the end. They were going to die. And oh God, Shinichi..! But surprisingly, the Black Organization had other plans in mind...

"You realize we are here to kill you, correct?" the black cloaked figure Rum, one of the men called him, inquired of the pair.

Two terrified heads nodded.

"And any heroics on your part, any attempts at resistance, will just result in a prolonging of your demise? Shot in the right place, it can take a man several agonizing hours to bleed to death. I believe you are well aware of this fact Mr. Kudo? You yourself used this method in your third Night Baron work."

More nodding.

"Good. Glad we understand each other. Now, if you wouldn't mind,- and you don't mind, do you not? - perhaps you'd feel free to answer a few questions of mine."

"Sir," Yusaku bit out, "what makes you think we'll tell you anything? As you have already said, we are going to die. Why should we speak?"

"Now, Mr. Kudo, correct me if I'm wrong, but I only said we are here to kill you. Being here to kill you and actually killing you are two completely different things. If you refuse, then I'll just have to make those two differing ideas one and the same. Cooperate, and you walk away without a scratch."

"How do I know you won't kill us after you get what you want?"

Here Rum grinned. "Well you see Mr. Kudo, we're always looking for new talent. Sharp minds, phenomenal physical prowess, the crème de la crème of human ability. Your mind, your sheer ability to plan and plot murder and crime, expose the weaknesses of our profession. Frankly, we could use someone like you."

Yusaku's eyes narrowed. "So you expect me to help you?"

The grin stretched from ear to ear. "Remember when I said I had some questions for you? Well, it's really only just one. How much do you want your wife and son to live?"

And dammit all if that wasn't the crux of the matter. In order to keep our family safe, for us to breathe another breath, for Shinichi to see another sunrise, Yusaku had to give in to their demands. For every crime the "Sleeping Kogoro" solved, three plotted by Yusaku went off without a hitch. For every murder Shinichi solved, two others were labeled unsuspicious. It was slowly killing us both. Every day when I looked into Yusaku's eyes, I could see that blue fire dying one spark at a time.

Oh, at first Yusaku tried to fight. With the Black Organization's resources now at his disposal, he started his own research into the syndicate, looking for a way to bring it down from the inside out. But Yusaku wasn't the only genius in their employ. It wasn't a coincidence that Shinichi was shot in those caves – it was a warning. Especially the note that showed up the next day:

There are no third chances.

Now, I've seen my husband work. When he wants to plan something, he makes no mistakes. He's just that good. But for someone to find out about his intentions to take down the organization, it was a shock to the both of us. How? Where did we go wrong? I hated that we were found out. I despised what they did to Shinichi. But I loathed what they did to my husband.

Before the Black Organization, Yusaku was an amazing man. Arrogant, confident, like the world was one big play, and by God, wasn't it spectacular? But now? Now I hardly recognize him. Paranoid, self-conscious, twitching at the sight of his own shadow. Afraid to speak out for the consequences. They've turned my husband, my Yusaku, into a shell of his former self. No, not even a shell. More like a ghost. Shells can be refilled.

But the worst, the worst Oh God, Shin-chan forgive us! was the call not five minutes ago. Now, plotting anyone's murder makes me want to retch. But this? If there is such a thing as damnation on earth, this is it. This is horror undescribable. This is where I know we are condemned to the second circle of hell. I'll never be able to forgive Yusaku. I'll never be able to forgive myself. But when it's the choice between Shinichi's life and the life of anyone else, bring on the handbasket, full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes! I'll become the devil incarnate if it means Shinichi's safe.

I know he'll hate us for this. I know he'll never forgive us. He might even hunt us down and kill us himself. I wouldn't blame him. And if he does come for our heads, I'll give him the gun myself. We'd deserve it. But as long as he's alive, I can't regret our actions. As long as he's able to hate us, to never forgive us, to scream at us with rage – as long as he's alive to feel, to react, then it's worth it.

Hate us Shinichi. Hate us and live.

"Shinichi? We're sorry, we're so so sorry..."

"Mom? Mom, what's wrong?"

"Please, forgive us, but we couldn't let them kill you."

"Kill me? Who's trying to kill me? What's going on?"

"At 2:50 PM, in five minutes time, there's going to be an armed robbery at Shujiken Dojo."

"-But that's where Ran is right now!-"

"Five armed assailants are going to open fire on the advanced class. One student in particular is marked for death."

"Who?"

"You know who."

"Shit! I have to get over there, I have to save her! How did you know...No..."

"We're sorry Shinichi. We screwed up. We completely screwed up."

"No! You didn't...!"

"This was the only way to keep you alive."

"...!"

"We're so sorry..."

...

2:47 PM. He has three minutes. He might be able to save her.

Maybe.