Disclaimer: See first chappie.

To say he was surprised when he had been suddenly grabbed from behind would have been an understatement. To say he hadn't been scared would have been an outright lie. The first thing that sprang to his mind was that the second one had arrived, and he'd just started to berate himself fiercely for forgetting that there had been two of them on the rollercoaster when the voice had whispered in his ear. It was not the distinctive voice he remembered from the ride. Of course he didn't rule out the possibility that it could belong to another accomplice, but the soft warning shushed the doubt, and led him to allow the other to do what he would. It was only mere seconds after his rescuer had successfully hidden him, before Shinichi heard that voice, along with the dull thud of metal striking skull.

He wanted to see what was going on, wanted to help, but his body was frozen with fear. He'd always been the one to come upon these scenes after everything was said and done. He could look on a dead body and only feel pity that a life had been ended, feel the determination to ferret out the culprit and mete out justice. He'd never been this close to it as it happened.

Something fell through the bushes just to the right of him; it landed with a loud thud in the soil, and sent a shiver of fear through his body. He could see a darker stain against the grey metal, glistening a little in the light shed through the holes in the leaf coverage—blood. If it hadn't been for the other, he would be the one that came in contact with that heavy blunt object; it would have been his blood staining the pipe.

He couldn't move, not even to turn over and see what was going on behind him. The men in black's voices murmured somewhere in the back of his brain and he barely registered that they were discussing how to best get rid of his rescuer. The faint snick of the safety being released was the click that started to release him from his paralysis, but feeling was slow to return.

Move…

"We'll use this…the new poison the organization developed…"

Move…!

"Uncooperative little punk. Vodka, hold his nose."

MoveMoveMove!

MOVE DAMN IT!

"There, stupid kid." His hand twitched as he finally managed to plow through the brunt of the inhibiting fear. He slowly rose from the ground, taking as much care as he could spare to keep his body from shaking uncontrollably. It was difficult to do so, there wasn't much room to spare underneath the bush and it was all he could do to limit the noise his motions made. "So long punk."

The running footsteps were long gone by the time fear fully relinquished its hold over his motor functions, and he could finally bring himself to break through the leafy barrier that had been his only shield between the preying eyes of the two men in black. He rose hesitantly to his feet, unable to quell the shivers that still wracked his frame. The fear was ebbing, but its effect was slow to follow. He'd never felt scared for his life before, he'd always been safely with Inspector Megure whenever confronting a criminal. It was a new feeling, and not one he wanted to experience again. Ever.

Shinichi took a few shaky steps, leaving the safety of the bushes and heading toward the huddled form on the ground, blood trickling across his face from the wound on his head. He was reluctant to touch his rescuer at first, trying to get his attention with a series of spoken "Hey!"s. When that failed and the other remained trapped in a sort of delirium, the unnamed man in black's words came back to him, causing him to grit his teeth, "Right, experimental poison."

The detective knelt down on the earthy ground, lightly touching the boy's exposed forehead with his hand. He was only in contact for a second before he jerked his hand back, wincing a little in pain as he reached in his jacket for his cell phone, "He's burning up…" He muttered to himself, worry filtering into his voice as he dialed a number. He was having a hard time believing that his rescuer was only a teenager, probably around his own age at that. He didn't know why, but he'd been expecting one of the police officers to be behind it all. A tall seasoned veteran, not someone who could be his classmate!

The cell finally connected, and before the other person could speak, Shinichi spoke sharply, "Professor, where are you?"

"Shinichi…? I was about to go to Columbo. Why?"

"I need you here at Tropical Land ASAP." Shinichi felt slightly bad about ruining his neighbor's date with dinner, but there was a life at stake here. He couldn't take him to the hospital, an experimental poison wasn't likely to have an antidote in stock, and it might just have components that react badly to normal anti-toxins. Professor Agasa was an inventor with a small medical background; he might be able to come up with something that a normal doctor couldn't. "Please professor…I'll explain when you get here."

It seemed like the good professor would refuse, but in the end sighed in resignation, "Alright, but only because I know you would only call me for a good reason."

After delivering a heartfelt thanks, and receiving an assurance that Agasa would be there in a few minutes, Shinichi hung up the phone. He glanced around, leaning over and tearing a strip of his shirt free. After he'd gotten enough of the material—never mind that his stomach was getting a little chilly from being exposed to the night air—he knelt down and gently lifted the youth's head, drawing on his rudimentary knowledge of first aid to bandage the still bleeding gash. To be truthful, the guy was lucky to be alive. The blow hadn't been delivered with enough force to kill, merely to distract and disorient.

With the bleeding staunched, he should be fine once they figured out what to do about the poison.

Shinichi knelt down next to the young man, there was no way he'd be able to move the full grown teenager on his own. He was a soccer player, not a body builder, and his upper body strength was nowhere near as strong as his lower. While he could kick an object with enough force to knock someone unconcious, heavy lifting was impossible on his own.

He glanced down at his watch, and then up at the fading light of the sun, if Agasa didn't hurry he'd be forced to inform the park security to get them to allow the professor in. The less people who knew about the situation the better, but the park did not allow entry after closing time. He didn't want word to get back to those men…

Shinichi's phone vibrated and he picked it up in a hurry, "I'm here Shinichi-kun. Where are you?"

"Come around by the west gate, we're right near the Ferris Wheel."

"We?"

"I'm gonna need your help with this, Professor…"

Somehow, between the two of them, the newly arrived Professor and Shinichi managed to support the youth upright as they walked out of the park. Luckily the security guard at the gate was tired and distracted, waving them through after discovering that their 'friend' was feeling a little faint and they didn't want to risk letting him walk on his own.

Surprisingly enough, the teenager's body had stopped moving, and instead had fallen still. He was still breathing—Shinichi kept checking every thirty seconds—everything else just seemed to have…shut down.

As they gently lowered the messy haired youth into the back of Agasa's beetle neither of the distracted men noticed that their burden was starting to shift a little, small spasms breaking out all over the place. The backseat was just barely large enough for the teenager to lie down, so Shinichi sat upfront with the Professor, telling him everything he knew about the events leading up to now.

-

Fire…everything was so hot. The pain was almost mindbreaking. He'd been jerked out of blissful unconsciousness to hover somewhere in the realm between waking and oblivion, only to discover that the only thing he could feel was the heat of the fire that had grown inside of him. He was sure that his bones had long since melted from the heat, and were sloshing around inside his body as some sort of liquefied goo.

At least the fact that he could feel pain reminded him that he was still alive. Whether to curse the fact or bless it he couldn't quite decide. A strange sensation started up, a feeling that vaguely reminded his clouded mind of a loaf of bread being kneaded. Stretch, retract, stretch, retract, and repeat again.

And then, with a final snap, everything slid into place. As quickly as it began, the fires were quenched, leaving his little world strangely cold and empty. His consciousness floated closer to the surface of waking, and he could feel a slight vibration beneath his back, and a sort of whirring noise drifted into his ears—a motor? Murmuring voices drifted from somewhere to his left, but he his numbed mind could not understand a word that was spoken.

He didn't notice the gentle rolling motion until it was gone, the vehicle breaking and lowing to a stop. He willed his body to respond, but it all felt…strange. There was no other way to describe it. Kaito knew the inner workings and capabilities of his body better than most—he had to in order to do half the acrobatics stunts he used in his night life—and it was only because of that familiarity that he could sense the unfamiliar territory he was currently floundering through.

Eventually though, he was able to make out bits of conversation.

"We're…prepare…get…him?"

A muttered affirmative and the sound of a car door opening and closing. As time passed, things became clearer, but he still couldn't bring his body to respond to his orders. Opening his eyes was first on his list, followed by turning his head a little. There was a crick forming in his neck.

The door opened again, and he clearly heard a strangled gasp. Hmm, that was a good sign. Maybe he could actually move his hand now? Kaito focused his will into moving his right hand—it was falling asleep squished between his side and the seat back—but only received a twitch for his efforts.

"What the hell…Agasa!" A vaguely familiar voice yelled from somewhere near his feet, but the shout was directed away from him. Feeling began to leech back into his limbs as an answering voice was heard, "What is it? Is he dead?!"

No…But being unable to do anything but breathe is getting annoying. Kaito responded silently, growing annoyed—not to mention a tad bit afraid—at his current disability. He didn't like not being in control of himself, and he was trying to speed up his reclamation of his limbs as much as possible. He didn't think these people were with the two bastards who tried to kill him, but that didn't mean he wanted to be helpless.

"No but…"

"Goodness! This is…it's impossible!"

What's the old geezer babbling about now? Kaito didn't like the gobsmacked note in the older voice; it was making him feel even more edgy than before. He wondered if maybe the poison had turned him purple and gave him an extra head. Kaito vaguely recalled the MiB mentioning something about it not having been tested on people, maybe instead of killing the target as intended it merely left him with an unorthodox yet undesirable side effect? While it was a better alternative to being dead, he was slightly worried about the side effect.

"Shin-kun, get him out of the car, quickly!"

He listened as the owner of the familiar voice obeyed, and his thief senses were suddenly aware of something leaning over him. Something much larger than him. The warning set his mind into overdrive, an instinctive reaction that seemed to speed up his recovery. He regained full control just as an arm slid around his shoulders and another under his knees, beginning to lift him from the seat.

His eyes shot open only to find himself staring at something blue and white. The lack of support caused his arms to flail a bit, before wrapping instinctively around the closest thing he could grab, the other man's neck. He quickly shut his eyes as the person holding him backed out of the car, only loosening his death grip when he felt his support stabilize. Blue-purple eyes peeked open, his head tilting back to look up past the blue blazer and white undershirt. His eyes widened as he recognized the face, "Kudou…"

"Awake are you." The teenaged detective stayed rooted to his spot, not moving away from the car as he looked down into Kaito's eyes. Wait, wait, wait! Hold the presses! Kaito's mind swam as he fought to figure out just how the detective was able to carry a full grown teenager, not to mention why he had to look up so far to meet Shinichi's eyes. Even if Kudou had the strength to hold Kaito like this, in this position his head would be only slightly lower than the detective's own. As it was, there was at least half a foot difference.

He turned his head a little, his eyes focusing on his own hand. A hand that was far smaller than he was used to, an arm that was shorter. His sleeves were bunching up in places, no longer did they fit snugly against his slender frame, "This is…"

Kaito removed his hand from Shinichi's shoulder, eyeing it with some sort of horrified fascination. The scar he'd gotten from his card gun was gone, as were the calluses formed by gripping his glider controls. A conclusion began to form in him mind, reinforced by the reactions earlier and his observations. His hand slipped limply back to Kudou's shoulder, small fingers curling into a fist and grabbing a swath of the fabric. He plastered a nervous smile on his face, returning his eyes to the detective's unwavering stare, "Well…at least I'm not dead…"

"That…is a plus." Kudou had to admit, "You are aware that you look…"

"Ten? Yeah." Kaito shrugged his small shoulders, the neck of his unbuttoned shirt falling a little to reveal the skin on his back, "I'm missing the scar I got when I was eleven, but I have the one from when I was nine. I'd say the age is a pretty safe estimate."

"You aren't…horrified?" Kudou sounded incredulous, starting to move down the driveway from the car and toward a large, mansion-like house beyond the gate, "You're taking this rather well."

"Terrified actually." Kaito managed to say cheerfully, thanking whatever deity that was out there that his father had taught him about the Poker Face. Without it he would have been panicking and going nuts by now, "The poison was supposed to kill me, but it only managed the past seven years. I'd say I got off pretty lucky."

-

A/N:…I hate waking up and having inspiration. I actually like sleep.

Anyways, here's the next chapter. Unbeta'd obviously, if anyone sees any glaring errors don't hesitate to tell me.

I love the response I've gotten for both of these recent stories, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Seeing people take the time to respond really makes me happy, and the positive response leads to even more warm fuzzy feelings.

Normally I would wait until later to post this, maybe after I got Hittocere to look over it, but I'm not sure if I'm gonna have internet connection then. So I'm just gonna put it up now. The next one to work on will be Masq…the chapter's about halfway done anyway.

Review please—they fuel the fire n.n

Btw…Hittocere rocks T-T She drew a pretty piccie of Kai-chan and Shin-chan. I'll have to bug her for permission to post the link when she finishes.

I don't want to make this A/N longer, but I feel the need to explain something. I know Conan was aged back 10 years, so was Ai supposedly. But I highly doubt the poison specifically takes off 10 years every time. It probably varies with the person and the amount of poison administered. Not to mention people don't know exactly how old Ai is. She may just say she's Conan's age to be in his class.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that I am aware of the discrepancy, and it was done on purpose to make things different.