Warnings: Brain damage, trauma, consistent misuse of tenses.

II.

Edogawa Conan is a silly name, he thinks as he slowly wakes from sleep. It's a blurry thought but it's true and what kid wouldn't be embarrassed by it?

He's pretty sure he's a kid, or at the very least, that he's tiny. Everything is huge and strong and too much. Even when he can't see, he can still hear and he'd really like to see. But all he has going for him is blurs and that's… that's annoying.

The rest of his brain doesn't help, all fuzzy and painful and tired. It really would be nice to just be dragged down and let it go. But he can tell the house he is in is big and there are at least two big people and they know more about him than he knows about himself and-

You're not Shinichi, he tells himself in furious determination on the inside. You're not you're not you're not and that's one more thing than where you started.

It's an alien thought, almost, but Conan agrees with it so much, so hard that he doesn't question it anymore and makes his eyes open.

The room is still dim, he notices immediately. What he can see is still blurry but it's definitely wood, well made shelves and filling his nose with the smell of old books. There's another smell, closer to him, Raspberries that he doesn't know how he knows, leather, fallen leaves, rainwater in dirty city puddles.

her voice, really far away. A voice that other person knows but he doesn't know himself. It sounds nice though, scared and hurt and Conan is pretty sure that's his fault somehow.

Not yours, his mind told him. His.

Conan turns his head to the left, uncomfortable and stiff.

Two blurs talking (he could hear them) at another set of couches probably. he made himself move. He wanted to see, wanted to see so badly. Even if he wasn't going anywhere, it was just better if-

The thoughts stop him like a braking motorcycle as panic sets in. He has no idea who he was, no idea how to do anything, no idea where he is going, or if anyone even cared what would happen to him. And that sends bolts of numb terror through his whole body.

Edogawa Conan is six years old. When six year olds were scared or hurt or overwhelmed, they tended to throw tantrums, whine, cry, or something of the sort.

Edogawa Conan fell under the third option. If the room had been any louder, no one would have heard his sniffling or even saw the couch shake. Lucky for him the room was quiet and Ran's heart was as big as a bruise left by her fists so she was already picking him up and rocking him like her mother had done for her.

And she felt him struggle at first, resist leaning into it because heck, he didn't know her. So she waited, trying to hold back her own tear flood herself.

Then his fingers sank into her muddy jacket and he lets out a weak little cough. "Ran-nee-chan?" he mumbles, voice slurry. "Where do I live?"

Her breath hitches and she thinks he doesn't notice. (He does.) But there's not much pause after that before she says, "With me." So weakly Conan can't help but think that she's lying.

But then she continues, with much more conviction. "You live with me now, Okay?'"

His fingers dig tighter into her coat. She feels him nod. And it feels solid and right and like this was where he was supposed to be all along. With her. In some way. Shinichi is never this vulnerable, this frightened, this… helpless. Not even when he really was four and six and plain old dumb for such a smart person.

She reaches out with trepidation and touches his hair. He flinches, stiffens, his head must be sore, god did they hit him there she has to find out, has to check, oh gods he passed out when he could have had a concussion what was she thinking? But when she gives him a cautious stroke, he slowly shifts, the tension uncoiling. It's not sticky and she doesn't want to risk his upset after they've just managed to convince him he'll be all right and not stuck in this big empty house by himself.

At least Shinichi had been in middle school when they'd gone off to America.

"We have to tell his parents," she said, continuing to pet the child's hair as the bony fingers loosened their grip. "And dad… and mom… oh god they're going to be terrified." Beika is already a terrible place to live if you have parents and you're older now the kid is too out of his league.

Agasa's hair looks whiter, he looks five years older. "We can't tell people, Ran-kun." His voice is tired, beady eyes on the boy who was practically a son to him. He's probably listening, Shinichi had always been a curious (nosy) child. "He doesn't know who attacked him, and he doesn't remember you. If word got out that a teenager became a small child…" he trails off and for a moment Ran imagines camera after camera, terror after terror, that little panicked fit becoming a full on attack, and people, mysterious, unidentifiable people with unknown features and knives in their back pockets and guns waiting in the wings. It was bad enough to be sure they would shoot her best friend. It was even worse to imagine they'd do it to what was basically a tall toddler. "We don't even know where to start."

He's right, Ran knows it, but she can't help but think that she's also a child and she can't carry this all by herself. Neither of them are able, capable of handling this. That's right. And the rightness of it burns.

"They should still know," she says, and he nods. He knows he can't stop her, no one can actually stop her. Shinichi had tried many times before and now, now he couldn't.

She pets Conan on the head once more, like he's a dog more than a person. But he doesn't seem to mind. He just seems perpetually exhausted. Or overwhelmed. She remembers being overwhelmed a lot at four.

She's already thinking of him as Conan. The very thought makes her chest tighten around her stomach, but she bears it. "Professor," Ran says instead. "Can you help me get him in some better clothes and some bandages?"

"Of course," he says, like it's no big deal. Even though this is only the beginning. Even though document after document awaits, lie after lie, pain after pain.

What will she tell people when the teachers say Shinichi is getting pulled out of school? What's the most likely lie that they'll swallow with ease because no one likes him anyway? He has to focus on his budding career. He's helping someone internationally.

Conan shifts, looks at her guilelessly, sadly, as if he really does understand what's in her head. And it clicks.

He's working on a long term set of cases and it's better for everyone if he just stays there when it's over. That's it. That's all it is. And a few days later, Edogawa Conan will transfer to Teitan Elementary where he'll live normally, an abandoned child like a second chance.

It's so perfect that Ran considers vomiting her soda.