Chapter Seven

When Ayumi ran desperately around the corner, clutching the dark coat and hat to her heart, she came upon the place where the black Porsche was parked. The door on the left side was open, and she dove in a split second before Vodka slammed it shut. She found herself in the back, and she looked around dazedly.

Gin was laying on the seat on an old blanket, very still and cold. His shirt had been torn off and used to create makeshift bandages for the visible wounds, and blood had seeped through most of them. His eyes were hidden behind the long bangs and the blood had been wiped from his mouth, and there was an expression of pain across his features. He still looked dead, and Ayumi threw aside her bundle and grabbed his clammy hand with a sob.

Vodka, who had been about to drive away, started and looked back. "What are you doing here?" he cried in shock. When he had heard another child calling Ayumi's name, he had assumed that it was a search party looking for her and that she would stay with them. Now that she had come back, he did not know what to do. He could not waste time. Gin needed immediate medical care.

"I had to come back," Ayumi replied, her voice breaking as she held the limp hand up to her cheek. "Vodka-san, is Gin-sama dead?" She stumbled over the question, dreading the answer. And yet she had to know.

Vodka swallowed hard. "Not yet," he said shortly, turning the key and starting the engine. He hoped that he would be able to drive. His shoulder was aching and he was still weak from his own experience, but he had to somehow force himself to succeed. He was the only one who could get them back to the base. Quickly he sped away and switched on the heat, deciding that there was not time to worry about Ayumi coming with them. It would just have to be that way, for now.

Ayumi sat down on the floor, continuing to grip at the cold hand. "He won't, will he?" she whispered, longing for some indication that Gin could hear her and that he would recover. She wished that he was merely asleep, instead of being near death and so badly hurt. He might appear to be asleep, if it was not that he was so pale and that he did not look to be at peace.

Vodka glared ahead into the falling snow. "I don't know!" he snapped, feeling helpless.

Ayumi bit her lip. "Can I talk to him?" she asked softly.

"I'm not stopping you," Vodka replied uncomfortably. "Just . . . don't look out the window! I have to take Gin back to the base to see if the doctors there can help him, and you can't know how to get there. That would only be bad for all of us."

Ayumi nodded agreeably. She did not care where they were going, as long as Gin would receive the help he so desperately needed. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of the blonde's cool flesh against her cheek. His hand felt so lifeless! Ayumi could hardly stand it. The tears broke loose again.

"Gin-sama," she wailed, unable to calm down, "please wake up! Please don't leave us! You've gotta keep fighting. Vodka-san doesn't want you to go!" Vodka gripped the steering wheel tighter. "And . . . and I love you, Gin-sama! I love you, so much. . . ." She slipped under his arm, pretending that he was holding her, and laid her head gently against his chest. The soft, slowing thump of his heart swiftly put her to sleep, and she remained that way, snuggled against her precious friend, all the way to the base.

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Vodka had called ahead to briefly explain what had happened and that they would need medics to be ready and waiting. He was relieved to see them outside the base upon arrival. He hated having to move Gin's body himself, afraid that he would do worse damage. Without stopping to think about what Ayumi might be doing, he unlocked the doors so that they could get Gin out of the car.

If he had actually stopped to think, he would have tried to get Ayumi out of sight first. But he was much too concerned over Gin to bother. And anyway, in the back of his mind, he figured that he could not keep her hidden for as long as she was there. Someone would see her eventually, no matter what he did. He wished she had not climbed back into the car. He doubted that Gin would be pleased with this development . . . if he survived long enough to know about it. Perhaps he would even believe that Vodka should have taken the extra time to rout her back out of the car again. She was not supposed to know anything about their base, after all. But at least she did not know how to get there, and Vodka would make certain that she did not wander all around everywhere. And as soon as possible, he would take her back---if he could figure out where to take her to.

He watched the medics come over to the car and look inside. The first's expression became a picture of shock as he surveyed Gin's form. "He's in bad shape," he remarked with a low whistle, and then he stared. "Hey, what's this kid doing here?" he cried, seeing Ayumi curled up at Gin's side. She stirred, blinking up at the newcomer but not really comprehending.

Vodka cursed in his mind. "Nevermind the kid!" he snapped then. "Just help my partner!"

Ayumi moved away from Gin slowly, still waking up. "Are you going to make Gin-sama feel better?" she asked pleadingly as she looked the people over and determined their profession.

"'Gin-sama'?" the first one repeated as they carefully lifted him out onto the stretcher. He shook his head. "We'll do all we can, but we can't make any promises," he answered then. "It looks like your 'Gin-sama' was shot at least five times, and some of them went all the way through him. If he was someone else, he would probably already be dead." Gin was notorious for his endurance, always pushing himself to do things that many people could not imagine doing. He was vicious, and even as a child he had been a strong fighter. But not even he would be able to live forever.

"There were other bullets too," Vodka said darkly as he got out and stood in the snow that was gathering. Ayumi scampered out beside him, after taking up the coat and hat. "The vest caught at least four others." He clenched a fist, bitterly wondering why it could not have stopped all of them. He supposed, logically, that the varying angles and velocities could account for that, but that did not help him to accept it more easily. Still, he supposed he should be grateful. If all of the bullets had entered Gin's body, there was little hope that he would be alive at all right now.

The second medic uttered a low exclamation as they headed for the doors leading to the infirmary wing. "I honestly don't think you should expect him to live the night," he said quietly.

Vodka knew that was likely true, but he would not acknowledge it. He could never forget the horror of seeing Gin's health deteriorate from the poison several weeks previous to this. Gin had not fully recovered from that, and now he had this to deal with.

"You need to get that shoulder wound taken care of, too," the first medic spoke up now. "The kid can stay in the waiting room." They seemed to assume that she was one of the protégés, and Vodka did not tell them differently. It was not their business anyway, and if they would continue to believe that she was an agent in training, that was fine with him.

Ayumi swallowed hard, not liking that idea. "I don't know anyone here," she protested worriedly in a quiet tone, watching as the first two medics wheeled Gin into the emergency room. "Vodka-san, can't I come with you? I don't want to be alone!" The thought panicked her more than she already was. She did not want to be by herself in a strange place, especially while she was worrying over the safety of someone whom she greatly cared about. She wanted to have someone there whom she knew and trusted, and she doubted that she would be allowed to call Conan or the others, even if it would just be to talk to them over the phone and not to have them come there.

Vodka felt overwhelmed. "It shouldn't take them long to do what they have to do," he answered finally. "If you just stay in the waiting room and don't go anywhere, I'll find you when they're done." He noticed that they were approaching it now, and he pointed to a nearby chair. "Just sit there and wait for me," he directed.

Ayumi's shoulders slumped, but she nodded in resignation. Going to the indicated chair, she set Gin's coat down in it and kept the hat in her hands, turning it around shakily. She wondered if Gin would ever wear it again. But then she did not want to think any more about it. He would be alright. He had to be! Reverently she placed the fedora on her own head, and it immediately fell over her eyes. Pushing it up again, she curled up in the chair with the coat around her like a quilt.

Vodka had to admit, he was not sure whether he was disturbed, amused, or touched by the sight---or all three at once. Shaking his head, he followed the third medic down the hall.

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"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Ayumi started out of a doze. As she tried to gather her thoughts and remember where she was, the hat fell over her eyes again. But as she went to lift it, someone else did it for her. She found herself looking at an amused woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Quickly she became completely awake.

"Who are you?" she gasped, feeling nervous. Now and then she had watched various people coming in and going out of the medical wing, mostly the doctors and nurses and other personnel. But this woman did not look as though the infirmary was the department in which she worked.

The stranger smiled, placing a finger over her lips and winking. "A secret makes a woman, woman," she proclaimed, and lifted the hat from Ayumi's head. "Does Gin know you've stolen his hat and coat?" she asked in obvious amusement.

Ayumi pouted, sitting up and reaching for the fedora. "I didn't steal them!" she said indignantly. "Gin-sama had to take them off to go rescue Vodka-san when he was drowning. I've been keeping them to give back to him, but . . ." She felt a lump rise in her throat, and she tried to swallow it. Failing, a pained sob tore free from her lips and the tears began to fall again. "I don't know if he's gonna be okay!" she wailed.

The woman frowned now, continuing to keep the hat as she ran a hand over it. "And what did happen to him?" she asked. The word around the base was that Gin had been fatally injured, but no one she had spoken to seemed to know the circumstances or if he was dead yet. And the sight of the small girl wrapped in Gin's trenchcoat and wearing his hat had definitely been a sight for pause. She could not believe that Gin would ever allow it---not that he would have much say in the matter at the moment. And in any case, she was amazed that any child would idolize him as much as this one obviously did. She was intrigued.

"He got shot a whole lot," Ayumi answered, still trying to get the hat. "We were having so much trouble because of Hi Sou-san! He tried to make Gin-sama and Vodka-san mad at each other, and he took me and made me think it was Vodka-san, and he poisoned me, and Gin-sama was trying to help me . . ." Here she trailed off, over and over seeing in her mind Gin laying lifeless on the dock in a pool of blood. Vodka had not wanted her to look, but she had felt that she had to know what had happened to Gin. Now the images would not leave her.

"I see," the female blonde remarked when Ayumi paused for breath. "It certainly sounds as though you've had your share of trouble. Vodka almost drowned? And Gin was shot?" Ayumi weakly nodded. "And you call him 'Gin-sama'. That's quite a title of respect, you know." She placed the hat back on the child's head. "I'd like to hear about it, if you wouldn't mind telling me."

Ayumi sniffled. She was not sure yet what to make of this woman, but she seemed nice enough, and Ayumi was glad for some company. "Okay," she agreed softly.

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Vodka did not know what he expected to see when he finally headed back to the waiting room after having the wound treated and getting some dry clothes from his suite, but it was not the sight of Ayumi still wearing Gin's hat and talking to an apparently interested Vermouth. For a moment he hesitated to even go over, as Vermouth was not someone he wanted to encounter right now, but she sensed that they were being watched and looked up, seeing him.

"Ah, so here you are, Vodka," she smiled, or perhaps smirked. "Ayumi was just telling me about all of your misadventures. My, you have been busy."

Vodka flushed. He started to reply, but then forgot about whatever he was trying to come up with as he was hugged by Ayumi as she climbed down from the chair.

"Vermouth-san is really nice!" she beamed. "She says she knows you and Gin-sama really well!"

Vodka looked at her in disbelief, then over at the calm Vermouth. "I don't know that I'd put it like that," he said finally, and knew that if Gin was there, he would grunt in derision and light a cigarette, saying something in irritation that Vermouth would respond to with delight. She enjoyed taunting him so much.

"Oh, after all the years we've known each other?" Vermouth said now in mock hurt. Vodka flushed.

Ayumi giggled softly, watching them. But then worry came over her features and she could not conceal it. "Vodka-san, have you heard anything about Gin-sama?" she pleaded, looking up at him.

Vodka sighed, shaking his head. "I haven't heard anything," he replied. "All I know is that they have him in surgery . . . and that he'll probably be there for a while." He actually had found out a bit more than this, but he did not want to tell it to Ayumi. When he glanced at Vermouth, however, he could see that she realized he was not telling everything.

She reached into her purse, taking out a bit of change. "Here," she said to the surprised child, "go get yourself something at the vending machine. You must be starved." She smirked mischievously. "I don't imagine you've been getting anything to eat amidst all of these disasters."

Ayumi now realized that she had not eaten since lunch at school. She looked at Vermouth and smiled. "Thank you, Vermouth-san!" she said, and hurried across the room to where the machines were.

Vermouth stood up now and came over to Vodka. Firmly she took him by the arm and led him into a corner, much to his discomfort. Then she looked at him seriously. "You didn't tell her everything, Vodka," she commented as she let go of his arm. "What else did you find out?"

Vodka sighed, looking at the floor. He knew Vermouth would not give up until she had learned it, so even though he did not especially want to tell her, he did anyway. "He died on the operating table," he answered quietly. "Some of the bullets . . . they got him in the chest, and one was really close to his heart. That one was still there . . . and when the surgeons tried to get it out, he just flatlined."

Vermouth gasped softly. More than being astonished over Gin's fate, however, she was stunned by how Vodka was handling it. "But you told Ayumi . . ."

"They got him back," Vodka interrupted, and sighed again, running a hand over his forehead. "But it's really touch-and-go right now. They don't know if they're going to be able to keep him here." He half-turned away. He had not wanted to scare Ayumi with this news. She was already concerned enough about Gin's life. She did not need to know that the possibility of him dying was even greater than she believed. Vodka would not even know how to go about telling her that in the first place.

Vermouth frowned, pondering over this. At last she said, "What are you planning to do with her, Vodka? You know she can't stay here long." She found Ayumi quite intriguing in spite of herself. Any child who could get into Gin's heart the way she had done would have to be extremely unique. But that did not change that she could not remain on the base.

Vodka clenched his fists. "Of course I know," he answered, somewhat defensively. But he did not answer her question. He did not have an answer. He was certain that Gin would know what to do. But that was the irony of their situation.

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Vodka had lost track of time completely before the doctor came back to inform them of Gin's condition. They had finally gotten him stabilized, the physician said, but things were still very delicate, and Gin needed a blood transfusion.

"I was looking over both of your medical records," the doctor said hesitantly to Vodka, "and I noticed that you have the same less common blood type as your partner. Would you be willing . . ."

"Yes," Vodka interrupted dazedly, not stopping to think about the fact that he had lost blood himself due to the shoulder wound.

This was revealed, however, and it was determined that it would be too dangerous for Vodka to donate blood. But without Vodka doing so, they did not currently have the kind of blood that Gin needed, and so Gin's partner insisted that he be allowed to help, despite the risks to himself. Realizing that Vodka was not likely to give in, the doctor finally agreed out of exasperation.

As Vodka went off down the hall again, in another direction this time, Ayumi laid her head on Vermouth's lap, not able to stifle a yawn. "Vodka-san and Gin-sama care about each other, don't they?" she mumbled. Vermouth had left for a while to take care of some things, and had only returned a few moments previous in time to witness the scene Vodka had made with the doctor.

Now the blonde woman was amused. "They're not trained to care about anyone, including each other," she replied. "Assassins can't afford to have any kinds of ties to anyone, because they could be betrayed at any time, or suddenly be ordered to eliminate someone they know. And if the personal connection is too great, they may not be able to handle the assignment." Of course, with Gin it was different. He seemed perfectly willing to get rid of anyone he had to, whether that someone was an enemy, a childhood friend, or a romantic interest. Vermouth often wondered what went through his mind, and if he was truly as cold-hearted and uncaring about the Miyano sisters as he liked to appear. Something told her that there were a lot of emotions under the surface that Gin did not allow anyone to see, and that was part of why she was so intrigued by him.

"I think everyone can care about other people," Ayumi answered, "even if they're trained not to. Doesn't everyone start out caring about someone? I don't think all the training in the world could make that go away." She smiled a bit. "Gin-sama and Vodka-san care about each other, even if they're not supposed to." She paused, mulling something over in her mind. "The doctor said it's dangerous for Vodka-san to give blood right now, but he's going to anyway. Why would he do that if he doesn't care? And Gin-sama rescued him when he was drowning. . . ."

Vermouth allowed this to sink into her mind. "You know, you could be right," she mused. She had always been fond of them both, and she enjoyed teasing them. After the many years they had worked together, she had come to feel that they probably did care about each other in some way---even if it was just that they had grown used to being around each other and did not want to be apart because of that.

"Vermouth-san?" Ayumi looked up at her sleepily. "Do you think Gin-sama cares about me? I'm afraid I'm just someone who bothers him. . . . Every time I've seen him, I seem to get into trouble, and then he and Vodka-san get in trouble, and I just feel awful about it!" She sighed, looking down again. "He never really says he cares, but I guess I don't think he would say it, even if he did. And he only called me by my name once. . . ." These were things she had worried over for some time, but she had never known how to voice her concerns. She had started to feel that way tenfold after Gin had been shot so many times by Ling. Seeing him laying lifeless, and knowing that it was because of her, pained her like nothing she had ever felt before.

The female agent blinked in surprise at Ayumi's sincere query. "Well," she said then, "I'd look at his actions more than anything else. Look at everything he's done for you---protecting you more than once from Ushio, getting you out of that burning house, trying so hard to find the antidote to the poison . . ." She hesitated. "And making sure you didn't get hit by any of those bullets," she finished, and felt Ayumi tense. Gently she laid a hand on the child's shoulder blades. "I can tell you right now that he wouldn't do those things for just anyone. He cares about you, alright---even though he's too much of a stubborn jackass to ever say so."

Ayumi tried to relax. "I don't like causing him so much trouble," she said softly. "It's my fault that he got shot. . . ." She hiccuped, the tears slipping out again. "If I'd just seen that man going to shoot, Gin-sama wouldn't have had to save me from him . . . and maybe he would've gotten out of the way in time!" She kept replaying the scene in her mind. In her mental version, she did not try to run to Gin. The blonde managed to dive out of the way as the crates were shot instead, and all of them were able to flee down the docks to safety. But it was only a fantasy.

Vermouth watched her, thinking that it was such a load for one as young as Ayumi to have to carry---believing that she was responsible for someone she loved being seriously injured. It was enough of a strain on those who were much older than her. Adults would sometimes crack under the burden, and here was little Ayumi, struggling with it herself for who knows how long. "Now, you know Gin wouldn't want to hear you talk like that," she told the child quietly. "He would never want you to feel responsible. He would tell you that it's useless to regret the past."

"I know," Ayumi said, her voice shaking, "but what if he dies, Vermouth-san? What if he dies?"

Vermouth did not know what to tell her. She knew that if that happened, Ayumi would always blame herself. And she did not think that was right. Ayumi was sweet and innocent, and she held Gin in such high esteem that it amazed Vermouth. She should not have to make herself feel that Gin's fate was all because of her. Ling most likely would have still managed to shoot him at some point, anyway.

She stayed with Ayumi until the girl fell asleep, and then Vermouth lifted her back into the folds of Gin's coat. Ayumi snuggled into it, seeming at peace while in her dreams, and Vermouth stood up in determination. Now there was something else she needed to do before going back to work.

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Vodka lay on the second bed in Gin's room, staring up at the ceiling. Being there made him uncomfortable; seeing Gin laying unconscious and half-dead made him uncomfortable; in fact, the entire situation made him uncomfortable. He wished that Gin would wake up and be alright. He was stabilized, but there was still a very real chance that his injuries and the blood loss would kill him.

He glanced over at the blonde with a sigh. Gin was quiet, of course, giving no indication that he heard the steadily beeping heart monitor or that he felt the sharp needle in his arm as the needed blood was given to him. Knowing that Gin would be furious if he woke up wearing a hospital gown, Vodka had brought him some clothes from their suite when he had changed into dry clothes himself. Gin despised hospital gowns, feeling that they destroyed one's dignity.

The most odd things could come to one's mind at times like this. Vodka was recalling Gin's annoyance over other goings-on; being in a hospital or an infirmary at all would make him extremely frustrated. Gin could never feel in control in that situation, and having control over what happened to him was very important to him. And he would probably be angry with himself over getting injured in the first place. Vodka knew how furious he had been when recovering from the poisoning. Gin had felt as though he should have been able to hear the attacker coming. This time, he had seen the oncoming assault, but he had not managed to get away in time.

Vodka wondered how Ayumi was faring with Vermouth. It surprised him that those two seemed to get along so well, but he was perfectly accepting of it. He himself was most definitely not good at handling Ayumi, or so he believed. He had never been extremely fond of children, finding a large portion of them to be brats, but Ayumi was not like them. She was innocent and pure, never meaning to cause anyone trouble. She was easy to like, though Vodka still found her exasperating at times.

He started and looked up when he heard the sound of high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor. As he watched, Vermouth entered and very deliberately walked to Gin. She gazed down at him for a moment and then, feeling Vodka's gaze upon her, turned to face him and smirked. "I'll be with you in a moment, Vodka," she purred and winked, and Vodka looked away in embarrassment. She bent over Gin then, talking in a low voice, and Vodka strained to hear what she was saying.

"I know you've always been stubborn, Gin, and you'll do exactly what you want to, as you always have. But I doubt you want to die. And I think you should try to stay alive for another reason in addition to whatever's going on in your mind." She leaned closer, and Vodka had to practically fall off the other bed before he could catch her words this time. "That little girl who adores you thinks it's her fault that you're laying like this. If you die now, she'll blame herself. And no matter how much you would grunt and groan about that, you wouldn't want that for her, would you? I don't believe you would." She laid a hand on top of his as she started to straighten up. "Anyway . . . I'd still like to make a martini with you sometime." Now she smirked again, and Vodka stared at her in disbelief.

She glanced over at him again. "Eavesdropping, Vodka?" she said in a sultry tone.

He flushed. As usual, he tried to come up with an answer, and also as usual, he failed.

She smiled. "You should just rest for now," she remarked as she turned to go. "By giving your blood to Gin, you've probably put more of a strain on yourself than you realize." Before Vodka could reply, she was already walking out of the room. But then she turned back slightly. "Oh, Ayumi is asleep in the waiting room again," she informed him. "Once she wakes up, she'll probably want to come in here."

Vodka could only nod as Vermouth departed.

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The female agent was right. Ayumi did not sleep for long before she awoke to find herself alone in the waiting room, and she did not waste any time locating the doctor, who told her that it was alright for her to go into Gin and Vodka's room, if she was quiet. And so she came in a few moments later, again carrying Gin's coat and hat, which she set on a chair.

Vodka looked over at her, rising slightly on the bed. "Is Vermouth gone?" he asked, though he was already certain of the answer.

Ayumi nodded, and turned to look up at him. "Are you okay, Vodka-san?" she wanted to know.

"I'm fine," he answered, somewhat flustered. He would not admit it, but he did feel quite lightheaded after donating the blood that he had. Resting sounded like a very good idea right now.

She gazed up at Gin, wanting to climb onto the bed and yet hesitating, not knowing if she would inadvertently hurt him worse. "Will Gin-sama be okay?" she wondered now, her voice soft and sad.

"I don't know!" Vodka snapped, sounding more harsh than he meant to. He regretted it instantly when he saw her shoulders slump. It was just that he hated being continually asked a question that he could not answer---especially when he wanted to know as much as Ayumi did.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Just . . . get up there if you want to," he said finally, his voice having quieted to normal tones. "I'm sure you're not going to do him any harm."

Nodding slowly, Ayumi climbed up onto the bed and scooted to Gin's uninjured side, laying her head against his chest. She started to relax, smiling a bit, and gently draped a small arm around his motionless body. "Gin-sama . . . I wish you'd wake up," she murmured as she started to doze once again.

Vodka watched her for a moment before laying back, knowing that he should get some rest as well. You and me both, he said silently in relation to her sincere plea. You and me both. . . .