The Vampire Detective 2 – Second Grace

Chapter Four – Familiar Faces

All around me are familiar faces/ Worn out places, worn out faces ... Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow/ No tomorrow, no tomorrow..

– Mad World, by Tears for Fears

---

Looking straight at her from his position on the floor, it was like looking the widening maw of the rabbit hole in the eye yet again.

It helped that in his older form, she seemed a lot less tall than the first time that they had met. He felt – he was – stronger than before. It took him a short while to remember that he was still on the floor, in such a position in front of such a person. A person who was really no better than many of the murderers that he had encountered. She was the one who had allowed a murder to take place which had not had to happen, not if she knew the type of person the killer was. She was the one who had changed him, made him different in nearly all ways to how he had been before. . . had killed him to his old life.

Blind to the presences of the other person who had been there and the thief who had become one of his closest friends in the past few weeks because of everything she had caused, he started to rise, eyes reflecting to the rest of the world his anger, his rage, his frustration and his pain. All of his deeply buried instincts fighting their way to the fore, heightening his very senses and the responses to what he felt.

Distant to the knowledge, he felt more than saw or heard the thief and the other leave the room, as certain of the fact that the magician could take care of himself as he was of one truth. If he couldn't, then he would only have another reason to tear into the two until they regretted ever hearing his name.

"You. . ."

His words trailed off in the midst of the heavy rush of confused emotions in his head, until that very tangle told him what it was that he had been about to say. He pointed his finger at his target, weapons of words ready in the same way that they always were when revealing a person's guilt.

"You left," he said. Coolly and collected, as if he were calmly telling someone the method with which they had perpetrated the crime. In some corner of his mind, it disturbed him. He shouldn't be sounding this calm.

"You left," he continued, "without doing anything. Once that bastard was caught, you could have done something." His hand came back down to his side and formed a fist there. "You just left. You were the one who knew what was going on, how to make sure that he couldn't break free at an point, but you didn't think, did you? You just left!"

He had only been this emotionally distraught perhaps twice before in his life. Once when he had first turned into Conan, in that first moment of relative peace when he had been able to escape to his old home and simply let loose his panic, fear, shame at having been caught out like that, anger at the people who had done it to him, forcing him into a different form and thus unable to be with Ran and tell her what she meant to him.

The second time had been that night, what felt so long ago yet actually wasn't, that had been at the same time easier and worse than before. Easier, because he was back in his own body, and that half of his feelings were occupied with the inbuilt relief of being back to normal. Worse, in that he wasn't normal, and never would be again. That he was now living much more of a lie in front of Ran than he ever had as Conan. That he could be there, with her, when in fact he was in all probability going to still be there long, long after she was gone.

The woman across from him sighed and hung her head slightly before looking up to meet his eyes.

"We didn't have very much choice. We had to leave. You were there –"

"I knew nothing! I was scared – did you not think that such a thing would happen when you just leave somebody like that? I didn't know what to do – you just left me there!"

And of a sudden, the room was very quiet. Except for the ever-present sounds of the house and its environs, and exaggerated sound Shinichi's breathing made to sensitive vampire ears. He looked away, focusing his vision instead on the Agatha Christie section of the Kudo library. Blood was rushing to his head from sheer embarrassment and shame at having finally said it, which while it allowed his mind to function better than it had otherwise, also made him feel amenable to the idea of having the earth swallow him up.

For a while, neither spoke, even though he was sure that she was watching him.

"I am sorry."

His head snapped back to face her.

"Sorry? Do you really, honestly think that saying you're sorry is enough by now? I've had this long without you. I think that I can deal quite nicely on my own by now, thank you."

"I beg your pardon? You call this being able to deal with everything that comes your way acting like I see you now? You call this behaviour what is necessary to protect people?"

"You mean you changed me for more than the capture of one man? I'm honoured."

The woman shook her head, evidently unimpressed.

"You aren't acting with your mind, detective."

"Instead of thinking with my instincts, you mean? The ones you gave me?"

"Those instincts of yours are something that every single vampire has. There were no ways of giving you the strength, speed and overall heightened senses of our race without the instincts to go with them, so that you didn't accidentally kill yourself or someone else running on the assumption that everything was the same for you as it had always been! It would have been idiocy, boy," she finished softly.

"I still had to figure everything out for myself. I still had to learn the hard way, far too many times." He returned her stare with his own now even more piercing blue to her vampire-strange hazel. "So where were you during that time?"

"Still in Japan," she said shortly. "There were people we needed to talk to, things that needed to be done. Not to mention," she added pointedly, "the very reason that we were still here when one of your own friends thought that you needed help was that we hadn't dared leave the country, knowing that such an emergency might occur."

Shinichi snorted, showing what he thought of those kinds of sentiments, but if he was truthful with himself, it only made sense. Not to mention that it meant that they had not, in fact, truly left.

"Why then, did you leave in the first place?" He asked quietly, knowing full well that she could hear him clearly enough. "What was so important?"

The woman let out a nearly inaudible sigh, and closed her eyes.

"You were."

She looked away, trailing a hand through brown-red hair.

"Don't you understand? Unless we left, you would never have learned to understand what your own limits are. You would never have realised for yourself what your own priorities in using your power are. You would have tried to copy someone else. . . whether you knew it or even wanted it or not. We would not have you idolising us for being the only ones you could associate with, or hating our existence because we made you who you are. We would not have you become so."

Shinichi laughed, but it was hollow.

"But what if you had made the wrong choice, in turning me?"

She looked at him with a calculating gaze, and for the first time since seeing her in his home, he felt as if he were being weighed and measured to an invisible weight. So this is what it feels like... he thought with a slight shiver running down his spine. That look that we. . . Hattori, Hakuba, Kaito and I. . . the look we give, judging a person to see whether or not he is guilty of a crime.

Her gaze softened then, her face smoothing into a sad smile.

"I don't think that I did," she said.

"How?"

"Because," she continued, walking closer to him for the first time and laying a hand on his shoulder, "there is too much guilt in you. A bad person does not feel guilt for any of the wrong deeds that they may or may not have done. . . do they, detective?"

At first he had tensed, then his eyes had widened. Once he realised what she meant, however, he smiled. It was crooked and not completely trusting still, but it was there nonetheless. In response, her own smile brightened, and she let go of his shoulder, allowing him to relax slightly again.

"Now," she began, in a more business like manner, "I think that we need to get out there, don't you? It seems that Fritz has somehow disappeared with young Kaito-kun, and no doubt both would be quite pleased to see you..."

Even without all of the pain and anger that he had been carrying when she had first appeared, Shinichi could not help but twitch. There was simply something about her – be it the fact that she was the one who had turned him, or the fact that she was now heading off into his house in search of that other guy as if she owned the place – that irritated him to no end.

----

A few minutes later – thank the kami for small mercies – the woman he now knew to be Mina came through into the room Kaito and Fritz had taken over, a thoroughly ticked off Shinichi following only a few paces after. Almost not realising that he was doing so, he let out a sigh of relief that no one had been hurt, even at all. Fritz grinned as soon as he saw them, waving one hand over in their direction. Kaito smirked as he saw the American's eyes light up slightly at the sight of one of the two, but immediately afterwards turned half serious, half teasing.

"What – so no one's dead yet? I thought for sure I'd have to resurrect at least one of you."

Kaito rolled his eyes, noting as he did so the sharp look that Shinichi shot the man's way. The detective did not, however, rise to the bait, instead walking over to the couch where he was sitting and falling down onto it with a hard thump, arms crossed and glaring at the world in general and the other two vampires in particular.

"Not really," Shinichi said shortly, elbows on his knees and hands on fists. The word almost went unsaid, but was clearly enough heard.

Kaito inwardly winced at the expressionless way the detective said the words. He had received his own brushes with the human – and thus milder and less disastrous, according to Fritz – version of whatever Shinichi had gone through. One notable instance would be that time only little more than a fortnight ago when Aoko had been in so much danger.

Because of that, if anything, he could understand at least a little. He only hoped that, given what he had found out so far, Kudo would never be driven to the point where he had to use those instincts of his, Black Organisation or no.

Belatedly, he realised that a tense and uneasy silence had fallen across the room while he had been lost in his thoughts.

Well. That won't do.

"So!" he said, breaking the silence with the well-practiced ease of a class clown and top prankster. "Anyone gonna tell me what we're gonna do now? I mean, obaa-chan and ojii-chan're here, so we've got two more minds to think things over, at least." Mina seemed only to sigh at the comment – unlike one crazy lady he'd briefly met once when he was seven – but he did have to fend of an irritated kick from Fritz, to which he stuck his tongue out, annoying the other guy more on purpose.

"I suppose," said Mina slowly, "that we should start at the beginning."

Fritz rolled his eyes and tapped a tune on his leg, stopped only by Kaito's snigger and Mina's glare.

"Which beginning should I start at?" Shinichi asked, a bit of his old self reappearing at the prospect of detective work. "As I think you'll have noticed, I've had quite a few."

Fritz snapped his fingers loudly, making them start slightly. Everyone turned to face him expectantly.

"Got it! How about you tell all about what's happened that we," he made a motion between himself and Mina, "don't know about? Say, the end of that case right until now? How about it?"

Kaito spared a concerned look in Shinichi's direction, unsure as to whether he'd comply with the guy's request. He knew for almost a fact that if it had been Mina who'd asked, they would have gotten a flat out 'no'. As it was. . .

Shinichi exhaled sharply, turning his head away from them as he did so. After only a moment, he turned back, straightening himself as he did so.

"Fine."

---

The telling of the past one and a half months took the four of them well into the morning, and taking into account all that had happened in that time it was no wonder, especially considering that Kaito would fill in events from time to time. Sometimes with things Shinichi even until that moment had not realised were missing from his account. Others, he found himself cringing when they were brought up, either through sheer embarrassment or abject annoyance. . . like, for instance, when the thief brought up the matter of 'Katie', not to mention just how much he had wished he could wring the thief's neck after the guy started to explain – with intricate details – exactly how that heist had been planned and executed.

It hadn't helped that Mina and Fritz had taken advantage of the situation, laughing both with and at them, being angry, being sad. Talking and asking questions, but also answering those given them and being quiet when necessary.

None of these things helped – not really. He had wanted to hate them. At the very least, her.

It hadn't helped that he had felt a shameful sort of relief that there was someone older than him to ask for his story, to tell someone – anyone – about it all. Nearly all. A relief that there was someone to tell him what some of his less obvious limitations and boundaries were.

A relief that, when they finally got around to talking about it, Kaito himself explained the concept of what they called a 'donor', shooting glances every so often at Fritz, and said in slightly stilted words that even so had more than enough confidence that he was perfectly fine with the idea.

Shinichi was just glad that the magician's mother didn't know. The thought that he could do all that had never occurred to him, and if he was honest, the idea terrified him.

At the point shortly after that revelation when they had decided on a much needed coffee break, his hands hadn't been able to stop shaking, and it hadn't been from the caffeine.

"So. . . that's all you can remember from that time?" Fritz was asking.

Shinichi nodded mutely, staring into his half-empty mug of black coffee. It was his third cup, and the first rays of daylight were starting to stream into the hall. The reddish lights of first dawn that tinted the normally light brown carpet clashed strangely with the monotone gray-blue of a house with only nominal lighting. So far, it was nothing to truly worry about, weak as it was. It would still be a while before the sunlight was bright enough or strong enough to cause any harm.

Fritz frowned, a mildly concerned expression making itself known. Mina had a look of calm attention on her face, more solemn than even most of the time before. Kaito didn't seem to be looking at anyone or anything in particular, but his Poker Face was definitely in place, making it that much harder to discern what was going on in the magician's mind.

He sighed heavily, and quickly finished the rest of his coffee.

"It. . . doesn't make sense. It just doesn't. I'm. . ." his voice broke slightly, making Kaito look away. "I'm a detective. I always remember everything." His fists clenched, and the mug that he had still been holding onto made strained cracking noises, startling the others. "So why can't I remember this? Why?"

He dropped the now useless mug, letting it fall to the floor and roll slightly away. His free hands made their way up to his face, covering his eyes and holding his hair back tightly against his head.

"I'm supposed to have become a better detective after becoming like this. Not some kind of... of headcase, causing problems all the time."

He was suddenly startled out of his reverie by a not-so-light punch aimed at his side. More than slightly shocked, he turned to face the thief, whose blank mask had been traded in for a look of sheer anger and frustration.

"You idiot." His words, a stark contrast to his expression, were cool and calm. "Just because you're like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, doesn't mean you are Holmes. Just because you're better than any human detective, doesn't mean that you're suddenly some sort of perfect being of deduction. Stop fooling yourself, Kudo. You aren't any of those things. You're still the overprotective Kudo I respected before we really knew each other. And whether you like it or not, I still respect you now."

Fritz's arms crossed, and the American vampire snorted.

"Got to say I'm with your friend on this one. You know," he said gently, leaning forward slightly in his seat, "we didn't choose you because we thought you'd be able to carry everything on your shoulders. Told it to him and I'll tell it to you. We aren't supposed to go do stuff, whatever, on our own. Me? I don't care whether you say even a word about it to me personally. Doesn't really matter one way or another who you choose to trust with it, so long as you do share it around. We may be superhuman, but superheroes, we ain't," he added with an ironic smirk.

Audible even at a human level, the local winged chorus chose that time to start to sing. Chancing another look at the others, he started to see Mina with her eyes closed, simply listening. With a long, slow breath that he let out calmly, he stood. Headed back towards the hall.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he vowed. "The case, and why I lost my memory of that time." Somehow. He didn't know how, exactly, but he would. If it meant getting that killer behind bars, he would.

"And you'll let us help?" Came the call of accented Japanese. He paused, not realising that he was half in the steadily strengthening sunlight as he did so, mind automatically sending those familiar subconscious signals to make him semi-immune once more.

"I don't see how I can stop you," he said at last. "Not to mention, I probably shouldn't even try."

What went unsaid was that he didn't, truly and honestly, think that he would want to. As unwilling as he was to listen to Mina, she – and the others, even or possibly especially Kaito – had a point.

He was going to solve this case, somehow or other. But before anything else, he was going to deal with his own more problematic troubles. As soon as it would be possible to do so, he was going to get used to going out again. Once he was fine with that, he would be able to go onto other things.

Such as going back to the scene of the crime.

---

It was a surprise, to say the very least, when Ran found Shinichi waiting for her at home the next day as she came back from getting the newspaper, sitting on her sofa and gazing out the wide window with an only half-aware look on his face. Moments later, he turned to face her, greeting her with a sight that made her spirits rise properly for the first time in too many days.

Before she had even realised that she had moved, she was sitting next to him, grinning tearfully into his shoulder, feeling the start he gave at her touch, her arms around him. Slowly, he returned her embrace, but she could tell that he was still treating her as if she were some kind of fragile thing not to be handled harshly, or else it might break. She wasn't, she had tried and tried to tell him that she wasn't, but that wasn't what mattered right then. Shinichi was back.

Not the lethargic, moody, paranoid and apathetic person who had been living in her friend's place for the last few days or so, but the Shinichi she knew and loved. The one who had that spark in his eye at the thought of a tough case, yet hated the fact that there needed to be a case at all in the first place even so. The one who would do anything to make sure that the case got solved, but never as far as going down to the level of those he tried to catch. Her Shinichi. The one who calmed her down and reassured her, who told her that everything was going to be all right and that she didn't need to be scared.

She had missed that Shinichi. But now. . . now he was back.

"Ran. . ."

"I missed you, you idiot," she sobbed, making his shoulder wet. "You weren't you. You were there, but you weren't. It wasn't fair... I was scared, too! I wanted to be around you and not feel like I wasn't being recognised. . ."

Awkwardly, Shinichi started to rub circles on her back, making shushing noises. Ran hiccupped slightly, knowing that for the first time since all of this had started, he might actually be drawing her closer instead of pushing her away.

"I'm sorry. . ." he said quietly. "I. . . I don't want you to be scared like that again. . . I'm sorry."

He heaved out a shuddering sigh and separated himself from her. With her face parted from its instant towel of Shinichi's t-shirt, Ran was reminded of how she must look, but he didn't seem to see how puffy-eyed and red her face was. Instead, he simply looked her in the eye, the same way he had often before Tropical Land, and the same way as Conan had done a few spare times after.

"It's going to be all right, Ran. It will be. We'll make it be all right. . . me and the others. I'm going to find out who did that, and why I've been affected like that, and then they'll be caught. . ." he trailed off, a serious expression hardening his features for a slim few moments. "And then after that-" his face suddenly lit up in realisation. "I still owe you one day out," he said at last.

At first, Ran didn't understand. A day out? They had had plenty. Though it had recently only been when she had been taking Conan and the rest of the Shounen Tantei out for a trip, and they usually ended up taking a turn for either the worse or the strange. The time they had spent since his return to his normal size had mostly been taken up by schoolwork, cases and emergency situations. Not the best time to go out, during one of those.

She looked back at him, only to find that he had been staring at the place where they had eaten together as a family so many times – her father, her, and Conan. He shook his head, and turned his head so that he was looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"I owe you," were the words that were finally spoken. "So much. I left you that day at Tropical Land, somewhere you couldn't have followed. . . left you in the dark and unaware of the truth for so long, I... I made you cry, Ran, because of me. I don't want that to happen again, either. I've done so much to hurt you, even. . . especially because I'm a detective. The least I could do would be to give you one day out after all this is over and done where we wouldn't have to worry."

Ran laughed, albeit slightly shakily.

"What if a case comes up? You'd have to deal with it. You wouldn't be Shinichi if you didn't," she teased.

He shrugged, smiling with a little less melancholy than usual.

"Then I'd just have to solve it really quickly, wouldn't I?" he said wryly, tapping his nose. Ran didn't mind. She would be just as – if not more – happy to see him in his element, knowing that he was wearing that face that he always wore when he was solving crimes. Just like her friend Kazuha, it was simply one of the things that made her love the mystery-crazy boy.

Just as she was thinking that, however, the look on his face turned serious again. Not the serious of depression and guilt again, or the serious of when he was trying to tell her something important, but just Shinichi-serious.

"Ran. . . speaking of solving things quickly, I . . . I admit to needing a favour from you."

She could have tilted her eyebrow just so, said 'you've asked a lot of favours from me, even when I didn't know I was giving them to you', but she didn't. Instead, she motioned for him to continue, curious as to what he wanted or needed, needing to know how she could help him.

"I. . ." he sighed, looked down for a moment before continuing. "I need to have some sort of access to the – to my case files. I need to be doing something. I've got more reason than any to see the one who really did it behind bars."

Ran stared at the look he was giving her, the one he got when he was truly serious about solving the crime – when it was personal. She considered herself a fool for not having seen it in Conan so many times. She shouldn't have been able to delude herself. The look was as distinctive as his eyes, which, while he had hidden them, had still always seen so much.

"I. . . I understand if it's too much to ask. You're not supposed to – not to mention your father probably hates my guts, right now."

She silenced him with a shake of a her head.

"I'll tell dad. I'm sure he won't mind. . . too much, anyway. He doesn't really hate you; he's more embarrassed about the whole thing than anything." She snorted lightly before laughing at the way his eyes widened in disbelief. "Well how would you feel if you suddenly found out that someone else had been using you all the time, good consequences or not?" At his look of guilt, she added, "Not to mention the fact that he's still got his reputation to live up to, even though he doesn't sleep for his deductions any more. Except now he's got to work for it."

Shinichi winced and almost laughed at the same time.

"You know, I always did think that he could be good if he actually tried."

Ran smiled in response; both at the praise to her father and at the normal comment.

"I know. I always told you he could be."

Shinichi hummed and went back to looking out of the office window.

"So... you really think he will?"

She scowled at his stubborn refusal to let go and just believe in people for once. But then again, she supposed that it was sort of a hard thing to do after all he had been through.

"Yes, you idiot," she said in the end. "I do think that he will. Was there anything else?"

Shinichi hesitated for a moment, but then nodded resolutely.

"Yeah. I was thinking of going over to the station. You know – ask around. See if they'd got anything from the evidence that we haven't been able to find." He stretched, looking for all the world like a big housecat, and Ran had to fight herself not to laugh. "Not to mention I need to get used to being out again. Station's one of a few short places where stuff happened, and it's the easiest – there're people I know there, it's familiar. . . thought I'd try there first."

Oh. But at least he did seem to be getting better, right? He looked almost back to normal.

"Do you think I could come with you?"

He looked down at her from where he stood with wide eyes, she still seated on the sofa with her hands gripping her knees and head facing down when she saw that he was watching her. She didn't want to see him say no. Not again.

A shadow fell across her face and she started to find that it was his, looked up to find him leaning down towards her with a grin on his face.

"Don't see why not," was all that he said.

Ran smiled brightly, shooting up at him with a hug aimed at his midriff, knocking the air out of him if the sound he made was anything to go by, and then darting off to get her shoes back on – coat still on from having just got back in when she had found him.

---

The walk over to the station was uneventful. . . only if you had some way of ignoring the looks that came to rest on them that could be placed anywhere between sympathetic and compassionate to downright betrayed and fearful.

The comments were worse. Ran's hand clamped on his arm was often the only thing keeping him from running straight back home and forgetting about the whole idea of going straight there to ask in person. He could look away from the stares, but with his hearing, the talk was inescapable. No matter where he went, where he looked, what he did, he could still hear someone saying something the moment they saw him. It was even worse when they went past people not too far away; that was when he could hear their hearts beat faster, their breath freeze on sight, eyes widen, scent get touched by fear. . .

He faltered at the door, memories of being gently yet securely led inside assaulting him. He had gone back to his mostly numb state not too long after fully understanding his situation, making it all the easier for those men on the graveyard shift to find him and bring him in. He touched his face. Even though he had been withdrawn, he could still remember the feel of tear tracks on his face.

A soft squeeze on his arm brought him back fully to the present and the not entirely unwelcome sight of Ran's concerned face. He smiled at her in a way that he hoped was more reassuring than it felt.

Evidently it wasn't good enough, as Ran scowled a little and slid her hand down from his arm to his hand, linking the two together. They both blushed a light shade of pink, remembering how many times she must have held his hand just like this when he had still been Conan, and never thought any differently about it. When she hadn't known, it had been different. To her, he had been a little boy, no more than a little brother to look after and scold when he did something dangerous, look after and coddle. Now. . . both grown, his hand didn't fit so neatly into hers any more. He didn't have to reach up, and nor did she have to reach down. Instead, her hand fit snugly into his, and neither looked up at the other. Yet he still was the one being protected, if not from the big bad world that a seven year old still didn't fully comprehend, then from the wide world of simple humanity, where he fitted in as easily as he had done as Conan. . . like a wolf in sheep's clothing, a spy among loyal soldiers, a thief among detectives. Someone who had something to hide in a world of curious people,

"You ready? I won't make you go in if you don't want to any more, you know."

He shook his head. A grim smirk appeared on his face.

"I don't have to be ready," he said. "I've thought about this – no matter what I do next, I have to be moving forward. Uncovering the one truth that has to be at the bottom of this case; no matter what lies there, I'm sure that I'll be able to deal with it. I'm going to have to. It isn't just me who's affected by all of this. . . it's everyone I know, and everyone the killer could possibly come into contact with while he's loose. It's more than just me. So no matter what, I have to solve this. My memories and my pride can suffer that much. I've solved cases before with less. No way I'm going to pretend as though I can't do as well with this one just because things have gone all kinds of bad so far; I owe it to myself, at least."

When he looked back at her, he was surprised to find Ran's face lit up, smiling tearfully.

"That. . . that's the kind of face that I love to see on you," was all that she said. "I've missed it for so, so long..."

------

AN: Was originally going to include another (big, plot wise) event, but that would've meant adding a few thousand odd words to it, making it nearly two chapters' lengths. So I decided to end it here. Yay for more Shinichi/Ran fluffiness!

. . . of course, there is the small fact that TVD 2 is undoubtedly going to get darker as the plot progresses, and is also going to be quite a bit longer, I think, than the first story. Just so's you know.