Ooh a cliffhanger. I will try not to make it a habit. Hope you enjoy!
Conan felt gravity overtake him as he stared down at the disguised thief only a few feet below him. Crap, what was he doing? There was no way a six year old body could handle pulling a full grown man (boy?) out of the water. Not to mention drowning was the thing that had presented the biggest problem in his life out of all of the dangers that had been thrown in his direction since he had been shrunk. His little lungs couldn't hold air at all and would drown in less than a minute. This whole situation was screwed up, but Conan was committed now, and he never quit on saving a life before. He just removed his glasses and put them in his pocket as he fell, not wanting the impact to shatter his disguise.
In two seconds they had passed the third and second floor. Conan reached down and grabbed the thief's legs. With his extra kick he had caught up to KID. He needed to move him from a vertical position instead of a horizontal. The KID probably had broken ribs from his previous gunshot wound and doing a reverse belly flop from a three story fall would probably not feel too great. He had barely managed to tilt the thief a little and suck in a quick breath before they hit the water.
Kaito was jerked out of unconsciousness by an impact that sent ripples of intense pain through his rib cage. The second thing he noticed was the cold wetness of a liquid surrounding him. Where was he? What happened? He tried to take a breath and was confused and panicked to find he sucked in a whole bunch of water instead. He jerked, struggling against the pull of the water as he coughed, trying to suck in another breath. His left arm throbbed again as he tried to swim toward the surface, toward air.
Suddenly a hand grabbed at his face closing his mouth and nose. Bewildered, Kaito tried to squirm away from the hand that held him. Was this it? Was he captured? The hand persisted, staying cleanly on his face, only slightly rumpling his disguise. Kaito was about to draw his knockout spray when his head hit a rock and he slipped back into unconsciousness.
Conan winced as he accidentally shoved the thief into the rock in his quest of keeping his fingers on KID's face. He hadn't meant to, but it was probably for the best. He could tell, even in the dark the thief was struggling and aggravating his injuries. Conan riffled through his pockets with one hand. Thank God he had anticipated the thief might use the river to escape and brought Hakase Agasa's mini air tank. He sucked a few quick breaths out of it, just to see if it would work, before shoving it in KID's mouth.
Now, how was he going to get the thief to the surface? Wait did he want to bring him to the surface? What if there was more than one sniper? It was definitely a possibility, and Conan wasn't willing to take the chance. The river's current was a fast one, and it was already pulling both of the boys out of town and into the forest beside the museum, at least that's what Conan guessed. He would just have to stay under for a little while longer.
Conan patted up with his free hand. One was still clenched around the phantom thief's nose, trying to keep him from inhaling more water, but the other hand could be doing something else useful, like supplying pressure to the bleeding wound. There he felt the small hole, in the left shoulder. He pressed against it earnestly, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood.
This wasn't going to work for long. He barely was holding onto the oxygen he had. Hurriedly he used his hand to grab the respirator out of KID's mouth, closing it with his other hand as he took a few quick breaths. Three deep breaths later, he popped it back in the thief's mouth, giving him the life giving device. It was amazing how oxygen in the brain really boosted idea production. All other conspiracies, deductions of the events that had occurred in the past ten minutes fell away as he focused solely on the survival of his companion.
What did he have? He had his shoes, his suspender, his ball belt, tranquilizer watch, and his glasses as well as trackers. He could use the suspenders to pull the much heavier person to shore, but getting him to the surface was a problem. Ah, his ball belt. The ball could get them to the surface. Thank god Hakase Agasa upgraded his belt to hold three soccer balls, including the firework one. Conan quickly unfastened the belt around his waist. Crap, he needed two hands for this. Praying that KID kept breathing naturally out of his mouth and not drown, Conan removed his hand from the thief's nose and quickly clipped the belt around his waist. Immediately he removed his suspenders and tied one end to the belt as he resumed his previous position. All right, he was ready.
He clicked the button on the belt, diving lower to make way for the ball ballooning from the belt. Instantly he felt himself rise upward toward the surface. Good thing too because he was running out of air again. Curse this tiny body.
A second later his head broke the surface with a gasp. He glanced around. How far had they drifted downstream? He couldn't even see the lights of the city anymore. He glanced toward the comatose man. It was dark, with the faint moonlight though, it was easy to see that KID's disguise was tattered and torn, more than likely from the impact of the water. Latex hung off, exposing a good half of the thief's face at least, but in the dark it was near impossible to see details. Conan coughed as he accidentally slipped under water. He resurfaced, shaking an arm.
"Oi KID!"
No response. He could do virtually nothing out here in the middle of an almost freezing river. Now that they weren't drowning, dry land was next on the list.
"Tch."
Conan gritted as he gripped the suspenders in his hand and started toward the shore. Somehow they had drifted into the middle of the river, which was a good kilometer across. It was a long and cold swim to shore. His muscles, more tuned to run and kick rather than swim, burned and he slipped under from exhaustion several times, but he was not going to just give up. He would always resurface, coughing and choking on water, but eyes still focused on the goal of the shore, which seemed deceptively close. He wouldn't lose concentration now. The soccer ball wouldn't last much longer, and he had to reach shore before it deflated, sending KID back under, and dragging him back as well. Conan panted as he stroked through the water.
"KID…if you die…I'm going to be pissed."
Sure he could say he was annoyed at the whole situation, but it wasn't even that. Genuine fear, panic, and worry permeated his being for the phantom thief, as if he was someone that he cared about. It was the same feelings he would have if it was Ran, or the detective boys, or any of the officers of Division One, or even Sonoko was injured and in danger. He just wanted the thief back to his arrogant annoying self, not dying.
Finally he felt the silt underneath his waterlogged shoes. He trudged up the slope to the rocky shore, climbing along the small beach until he finally hit dry ground. He fell to his hands and knees panting with exertion, but forced himself forward. Finding a suitable tree, he wrapped his suspenders around it, and clicked the button. He felt the slight resistance that threatened to pull him back into the river but he gritted his teeth, letting out a grunt as he pulled against the force.
Finally KID was floating in the shallow part of the river. Conan splashed toward him; pulling on the straps of the bullet proof vest he was wearing, dragging him to complete safety. Finally, after a long and arduous process of hauling him a few feet, stopping to rest, rinse and repeat did Conan finally pull him to a suitable distance away from the river. After dropping KID, he fell back on his back, breathing heavy as exhaustion set in. His lungs and muscles still burned from the strain of swimming and almost drowning, let alone carrying a man at least twice his size out of the water. He just wanted to lay here and possibly sleep if he could, but he knew he couldn't. Conan allowed for a two second respite before sitting back up. Now was not the time to be resting.
Priorities. He needed to check on KID's injuries. They weren't out of the woods yet.
Conan crawled to the thief's side. The detective first started with the basic first aid. Did he have a pulse? Check, but weak. Was he warm and not dying of hypothermia? Check possibly, come back to that one. Was he breathing? Che-no check. Conan's breath hitched as realization settled on him and he stared down at KID in disbelief, murmuring.
"Oi, oi, seriously?"
The thief didn't respond, and it only occurred to the detective how pale, and lifeless he looked.
Conan froze, mind grinding to a halt, before kick starting back into gear. No! How long has he not been breathing? The detective hurriedly tilted the thief's neck back, shoving his jaw open to look for blockages. None. Good.
Conan placed his tiny hands on the rib cage, pressing down and up in rapid succession. He didn't care that he was trying his best to break already fractured ribs. He stared at the chest, not trusting himself to look up at the face. This couldn't happen. KID was not going to die over something as petty as this. Conan was going to take him to prison, where he would rot. He wouldn't allow something like this to happen, especially on his watch.
Ten compressions in and there were still no sign of life. Conan muttered.
"Come on, breathe."
Nothing; there was no response from the thief whatsoever, verbal or otherwise. Twenty chest compressions now and the panic was growing with each passing second. Conan gritted his teeth as he commanded a little louder.
"Breathe you idiot thief breathe."
He slammed his clenched fist straight down on the sternum. KID jerked. Conan placed his hands back on the chest, ready to start again when KID spasmed. Conan watched, holding his own breath as KID gasped lightly, which turned into a wet hacking cough. Conan jerked back as KID curled up on his uninjured side, retching up water that was currently in his lungs. Conan lightly patted the exposed back, trying to get it all out of the thief. The shrunken detective heaved a heavy sigh of relief as KID rolled back over onto his back, wheezing slightly, but breathing. He smiled gratefully.
"Thank goodness."
All right, now that KID wasn't dying, now to check on his other injuries. This meant he needed light.
Conan stopped in turning on his watch flashlight. Right now if he shined a light at the thief, he would see his face; his undisguised face. Even if he couldn't see it now, when he had to pull off the clothes to bandage him it would easily rip the mask right off, which meant full exposure. He had a choice here, and he had to make it quick. Wait, was he still bleeding?
Conan felt around in the semi light of the moon, finding the bullet wound. It was still leaking blood, however it had slowed considerably. Conan pressed down hard against the wound, ignoring the soft groan from his patient. He would need a good ten minutes of pressure at least to stop the bleeding. That was enough time to contemplate this new dilemma.
It was always a goal of his, ever since he first saw him and his infuriating smirk that oozed confidence and daring, to rip that mask straight off the thief's face, and not one of his disguises either. To find out his identify and turn him into the police; it was a no brainer. That's what detectives did; catch criminals, especially international ones.
However this definitely wasn't the most ideal setting. He wanted it in front of KID's fan club, showing his face on the stage of his heists that he loved so much, watching as the thief accepted his fate with dignity and prowess, an honest end to their competition. This situation definitely did not play out in some back woods, with the phantom thief unconscious, sporting a gunshot wound when he couldn't even defend himself. It just seemed…wrong, and entirely unfair. Shinichi Kudo always pursued the truth, no matter the lengths, however even he decided that KID needed leniency just this once; he wasn't the type to kick a man when he was already down. That's not how the relationship between him and the thief worked.
KID had rules for his heists, and the detective decided he also needed rules for this unorthodox criminal. He had decided long ago that he would only try to expose the thief or his trick and thwart his escape. Pursuing was allowed, however once the thief had escaped he was off limits. There was also that favor system that both shared, the fierce competition, but willingness to help the other in a pinch.
Conan nodded to himself. All right, it was decided. He would not try to find out KID's identity during this time. He would focus on getting the thief home and intact.
Slowly he felt the blood beneath his fingers stop and he pulled away his hands. They were soaked and that was another cause of concern. Conan had no idea how much blood he had lost between the roof, the river, and the current lodging on the beach, and that was dangerous. Blood loss had its own problems, not to mention he had limited supplies here. He didn't know if KID even carried medical supplies with him.
Conan sat KID up, slipping off the police armor, helmet, and undershirt. Sure enough, he felt the mask tear even further as he removed the clothing, trying not to jostle the thief. It didn't dislodge completely, but he was definitely more exposed now. Conan winced, but kept moving. Time was of the essence, and speed was a must in this situation. The faster KID received any medical attention the better. He had no time for second thoughts.
There, KID in his usual white attire, which meant his cape. Conan unfastened the fabric, pulling it out from under the body. His hands efficiently riffled through the thief's pockets; he would probably be annoyed later at the breach of privacy, but Conan was just trying to find something, anything to use to treat injuries. He would understand the urgency of the situation. All the medical knowledge he had accumulated over the years whirled in his brain as he took stock of the inventory that wasn't his own. The jewel, the prize that was long forgotten, was set to one side as he pulled out cards, handkerchiefs, flowers, Rubik's cubes? What? Anyway continue, balls, pellets that were probably his dummies and sleeping gas and smoke bombs, a lighter, and disguise materials. He only went through some of the pockets, probably not even finding all the hidden pockets on the magician.
Now with everything laid out, Conan glanced around, trying to find something useful. I need possible needle and thread to sew up the wound, something for disinfectant, probably painkillers for later, and bandages, as well as something to hide his face. It looks like the bullet was just a flesh wound, so there was no damage to joints or bone, and it exited cleanly so I don't have to deal with lead poisoning, but that's a small mercy. Lady Luck smiles on Kaitou KID once again.
Conan smiled as he came across a flask. Is this…? He unscrewed the cap and sniffed. Alcohol, not the ideal kind, but could definitely sterilize a wound. Wait…what's that box? He picked it up, tilting it in his hands. A metal box and it was locked with some sort of puzzle. A tick mark appeared on the shrunken detective's forehead. Stupid magicians and their secrecy. He just wanted to check and make sure that what was inside was useful, and thankfully it was an easy enough puzzle to crack for a genius. A few clicks later, the box opened to reveal the best gift of all. It was a mini first aid kit, complete with sewing kit, gauze, tape, painkillers, and a small roll of bandages. Conan smiled as he pulled the supplies out and set them to one side. The bandages were not nearly enough, so he would need to make more.
Conan reached into the thief's breast pocket and pulled out the card gun. Hurriedly he pointed the gun at the tree, pulling the trigger. The card stuck almost a half inch into the bark, but Conan quickly pulled it out, drawing his thumb across the edge. It was sharp, not as good as a knife, but Conan was willing to work with anything at this point.
He quickly lay the cape aside, apologizing to the thief silently as he started cutting at the edge. It was the only bit of extra cloth they had, and the detective was willing to bet he had extras and he didn't need a hang glider in the near future. The first part he cut was a cloth square off the corner. He folded it into a triangle and gulped. This was the tricky part.
Slowly he tied the bandana loosely around the thief's face. He hesitated. How did he want to do this? KID's breathing was still weak, and he definitely didn't want to block his mouth even if it was a thin cloth. However if he covered up the top half of his face, including his eyes, KID would flip out when he awoke. Conan sighed. No choice; safety over comfort.
He secured the cloth as best as he could in the semi-darkness, breathing a sigh of relief, before pulling away the rest of the disguise from underneath and throwing it aside. It was unsalvageable anyway.
The thief was finally exposed, and the only thing keeping his identity a secret was a flimsy piece of cloth. It would be so easy…the temptation was definitely there. Conan shook his head. He was focusing on all the wrong things. Now he could use a light.
He switched his watch on and relaxed tense shoulders when he realized that he couldn't glean any information from the prone figure in front of him, which scared him a little. Gripping the watch in between his teeth he set to work, cutting up half of the cape. The most grievous wound would be the gunshot wound, so he would start with that first. The blood had finally stopped, so that was a plus.
Conan peeled back the suit jacket and shirt, exposing the wound. He unscrewed the cap of the flask, glancing at the thief before slowly pouring some over the wound. KID jerked and groaned in discomfort. Conan muttered around the watch band as he pinned the thief down, more for his reassurance then the thief's.
"Sorry, but it's necessary."
He splashed about half of the liquid on the wound, saving the other half for later. It would help start a fire. Setting it aside carefully, deft fingers threaded the needle. First he would focus on the front and then the back. He had never done this before, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
KID didn't wake up during the informal surgery, only voicing mild protestations in his comatose state, which Conan didn't mind. It meant the thief was alive, and it gave him something to do as he quietly soothed the thief as he concentrated on his work. After sealing both wounds he grimaced. It wasn't pretty, but it would last them until he got better medical attention.
As he reached for the gauze, he allowed his mind to fill with other thoughts. Did KID know he was going to be attacked? That would explain the medical equipment that he carried on his person. Has he been attacked before to warrant such a response? This was worrying, and unneeded right now. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand.
He carefully wrapped the bandages around the gauze, keeping it firm, but not too tight. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that KID was still breathing, pale, and after counting the pulse beats, had a weak pulse, but most definitely still alive.
Conan picked up the thief, sitting up him up as he slipped the jacket off, as well as unbuttoning the shirt completely and removing it as well as the tie that he had loosened but not removed. God how did KID change into this so quickly, and perfectly no less? Stupid magicians that had quick fingers and supernatural abilities.
"All right KID, almost done, stay with me."
He glanced at the thief's back, wincing. Already the spot where the bullet hit was a dark purplish bruise about the size of an adult fist. Conan prodded at the skin, feeling the rib cage carefully for breaks. KID squirmed slightly away from the feeling. Conan just grumbled almost fondly.
"Keep still Baro I am trying to help."
He wasn't a doctor so he couldn't tell if the ribs were broken or not, and he certainly didn't have access to an x-ray. The good thing was that he could tell that the lungs weren't punctured and it didn't look like there was any internal bleeding. He would wrap them up just in case then. Slowly he tied the remnants of the thief's cape around his torso, keeping it as snug as he could to act as a cast.
He was struggling to keep his detective mind in check and focused on the task at hand instead of trying to find any distinguishing markings, taking measurements, as well as trying to figure out age. It would be so easy to just snag a hair, keep some blood from his hands or clothes, and get fingerprints. So easy. Conan sighed heavily and groaned. This was so unfair. KID had better be grateful.
He redressed the thief. The detective rocked back on his heels, switched off his light, and finally allowed himself to slouch with relief and exhaustion. He had done all he could right? All of his injuries were accounted for and treated to the best of his ability. His vitals were stable. There was nothing else…
Conan perked back up and narrowed his eyes. Wait wasn't he forgetting…he face palmed. Right, he had shoved the idiot thief into a rock, which meant a possible concussion.
This meant he had to look into KID's eyes.
Cursing silently Conan looked toward the temporary mask he had created. He could pull it up, but it would expose his entire face, without any monocle to hide behind. It was purely his fault, and now he was reaping what he sowed. So how was he going to do this exactly? Why was he even going this far for the thief, protecting him so much from himself? Usually as a detective, privacy was nothing but a curtain hiding the truth, so why was he hesitating drawing it back now? Besides he already knew the thief had to look like him in some aspects, otherwise he wouldn't be able to pull off the Shinichi Kudo disguise so well. So his eyes had to be blue. No big deal right?
Unless…he was wearing contacts. Then his eyes could be any color. Conan sighed as he shook his head. This was stupid. Why was he even thinking about this?
He hurriedly grabbed the police shirt that KID had used as a disguise and placed it just over his nose and mouth, completely covering the thief's face; it wouldn't be for that long so he could let it slide just this once. He slowly slid the previous mask up, exposing the two inches needed for the eyes. Conan flicked his light back on and hurriedly peeled the eyelid open of KID's right eye.
He breathed a sigh. The eyes were currently still rolled back, which meant he couldn't check for a concussion at this time. He would have to wait until the thief was awake.
He drew back, replacing the mask over the eyes and withdrawing the shirt only to position it underneath the thief's head as a pillow. All right, finally all was done.
So now what was the next course of action? Communicate outside help? He pulled out his cellphones out of his pockets and grimaced in displeasure. Of course they were fried from over exposure to water. Which meant the thief's was probably broken too. Not to mention, who would he have called? KID would vehemently refuse a hospital, as it would be a sure fire way to get caught, and Conan didn't exactly want to pull an injured criminal into his life. He supposed he could have called Professor Agasa. That was currently off the table though.
So his only option now was to wait until KID woke up and could move on his own to make it back to civilization. So in the meantime…Conan shivered as a wind swept through the trees. It was on the very edge of summer and spring, so it wasn't cold per-say, unless of course you decided to take a swim in an almost freezing river and stood around in soaking wet clothes. So the next on the list of priorities was a fire. He had a lighter, and alcohol to start it, but he didn't have any wood, which meant he needed to leave the thief's side. Conan looked down at the still unconscious thief and muttered.
"You wait here KID. Don't do anything reckless while I am gone."
First things first though. He walked back toward the edge of the river, washing his hands of the blood that had accumulated during the dressing of the wounds. Destruction of evidence, huh. What kind of detective am I? Conan watched as the redness dissipated in to the water, leaving behind clean hands, however there went all the DNA he had from KID. Without another word, he flicked on his watch light and strolled farther into the forest, hoping he could collect enough wood before the thief woke up.
