Thanks everyone who favourited/reviewed my story. Makes me feel as though what I'm writing isn't utter bollocks and terrible. Here is a new chapter for all you lovely readers! I assure you I have no idea why I have been updating every six days – it's a nice even number. Haha. No, in reality that is about the time we/I have been using getting this story edited, that editing the edit then editing the edit of the edit… and still I miss writing mistakes *shakes head* I swear there are evil goblins deliberately going over the document after I go to bed at night just to thwart me. Anyone have any idea how to keep them at bay, putting out chocolate-chipped cookies next to my computer to distract them perhaps?

Special thanks to the amazing Addy01 for going over and editing and reassuring me that there is no need for harsh, constructive criticism from her side.

Just a heads up. I'm going to add warnings on each chapter needed for whatever reason so nothing comes back to bite me.

Warning for this chapter for: Mention of torture and suicide. And angst.

Enough chatting, please enjoy and let me know below what you think!

…

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

No one dare

Disturb the sound of silence

Disturbed

…

Chapter 3 – Disturb

…

The large room was dim, with shadows cowering in the corners. A lone figure sat on a chair in the middle of the dusty floor, the light bulb over his head as flickering due to a faulty fuse. If he squinted, the small boy could see boxes and containers hiding in the shadows beyond the light's reach.

His breath came out in short puffs, a mixture of pain and panic bubbling underneath his skin. He yanked on the tope around his hands, however they still did not budge. The boy's face was bruised, making his features nearly unrecognizable. His eyes were swollen red, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his lips. His mouth tasted of rich metal and was dry like the Sahara Desert as his body absorbed any liquid to compensate for the blood loss.

Edogawa Conan felt dizzy, the environment around him was a blurry haze in his mind as he tried working through the drug still lingering in his system.

As he gazed across the room, a shadow entangled itself from the darkness, and started to stalk forwards with a familiar gait. A sharp, rectangular face, pale skin and silver-white hair down his back hidden underneath a black fedora. His eyes gleamed of a bloodlust underneath the blatant psychotic rage. There was a silver scar on his left cheek.

His left hand clutched a large, hooked knife.

"I won't ask again, bouya," his voice was hoarse and low as he spoke, disguising the clear wistfulness in the assassin's tone – hoping that the boy would not answer so he had an excuse to honour his threat.

Conan thinned his lips, eyes never leaving the form in a burning gaze. He would never give up, not for anything in the world. He would rather die than to give them up.

Gin must have seen it in his face, as a large smile spread across his face. "Suit yourself," he whispered, before the edge of the knife was pushed down to the hilt into Conan's knee.

The detective snapped his head back as a howl escaped his lips as the pain scorched every nerve in his body. A bright light flashed behind his eyes and for a brief second he wondered if this was it – if this pain would be the death of him. He soon ran out of breath, and only a silent scream remained vibrated in his throat as Gin twisted the knife.

All he could see was the clear pleasure in the assassin's face.

…

Shinichi woke with a violent start, his lips parting as his lungs contracted to gulp down as much air as possible. His leg arched as the nerves on his thigh contracted vigorously from the phantom pain. He clenched his eyes together s he mumbled under his breath in order to reassure himself.

"Just a bad dream. It's just a bad dream."

Eventually, the adrenaline subsided and his heart stopped hammering against his chest as the tension slowly drained out of his body, leaving him only shaking slightly at the abrupt strain. His toes twitched once or twice from the lingering adrenaline. He reached a hand down to stroke his leg, his fingers dipped into the curve of the damaged muscle as he did so. Ignoring the immediate spike of pain, he started to rub his palm against the affected area in the hope of lessening the painful spasms.

It was only a bad dream

As the minutes ticked by, he slowly started to relax, and he eventually threw the cover off him, pushing himself into a sitting position. His shirt which had been soaked through from the sweat during the night, clung to his chest. A cold shiver raked down his spine, and with a sigh he disentangled himself from the damp clothing, letting it fall down into a clump pile next to his feet.

The cold air brushed against his bare skin, and he ignored it as he finally stood on shaking limbs. He pushed his fingers against his leg as he limped to the kitchen. The pain stung as it travelled up his spine, and he clenched his teeth, regretting not taking the few seconds to grab his cane as he leaned heavily against the doorway.

With a grimace, he finally managed to wobble the four and a half metres to the kitchen bench, and used it as leverage to hobble his way to the third cabinet to his left. His hand fumbled around the knob as he pulled the door open and he grabbed after the bottle of Vicodin on the second shelf. His hand shook as he tried to screw it open, and as the lid popped open, the contents suddenly spilled across the wooden space of the bench.

Shinichi swore loudly, and grabbed after the pills. He picked up two and swallowed them dry, before sweeping as many as he could reach back into the bottle before leaving it laying open on the bench. Then he sagged against it, before pushing off of it and dropping onto the floor with his back leaning against the bench-cum-storage-cabinet to be in a more comfortable position – his leg was trembling too much from the strain to keep his weight on for the moment. He ignored the knobs that were digging into his spine. His leg finally stopped throbbing painfully. Instead, it had settled into a noticeable but less unpleasant aching as the minutes ticked by.

It had only been a few weeks since the last time he had refilled the prescription. Nevertheless, he was almost empty again. He wanted to blame it on the disastrous Christmas holiday, however he knew it had been his own fault.

The holidays had started a few days after Sera's birthday party, and Heiji had left two days after the event. With Shinichi already done with his exams, he had thrown himself into working the police department to discover the identity of the hitchhiker killer in Kanto.

Ever since his parents had moved away when he was fourteen, Shinichi had spent most of his Christmas Eve's at the Mouri's. It was the only day of the year Kogorou and Eri did not act hostile towards each other, and Shinichi had been looking forward to it as it would be the first time in three years he would be able to celebrate it as himself rather than as Edogawa Conan.

The only issue he had with this year's celebration was that Sera had been there as well, and Shinichi had been trying very hard to keep wearing a friendly and happy expression on his face whenever he hung out with them, all the while trying – and failing – to keep his heart from breaking. He was truly happy for his two friends, but logic and the matters of the heart did not always compute.

When he had been asked to join them for New year's celebration also, he had excused himself, saying that he had a shift at the police station. It was not a lie as he purposely asked Megure for it. It had been a long break, and he had been looking forward to lectures starting against just to fill the void in his schedule.

Shinichi had only seen Kaito once since the holiday started, and that only due to them accidently bump into each other in the courtyard wishing each other a 'Merry Christmas'. The magician had head off to France to celebrate Christmas with his mother.

He raked a hand through his hair and rested it against the wooden surface behind him. His stomach had suddenly started to churn and bile rose to the back of his throat into a tight lump. He swallowed thickly, wondering fleeting what had triggered the sudden nausea. He tried lifting himself off the ground, and the room started to spin around him. He grabbed on the edges of the kitchen bench tightly to stop himself from falling over.

Was he getting sick? He felt fine just a few minutes ago, except for the perpetual throbbing of the damaged nerves in his leg. This did not feel like a sudden bout of the winter flu. Nevertheless, he pressed a hand against his forehead. He felt hot and clammy. He started gulping for air as his lungs burnt and his stomach convulsed painfully again. His arms and limbs started to shake with the strain of standing upright.

Had it been something he ate? Except for the store bought bento he had eaten a few hours earlier, he had not consumed anything else. Tears prickled in his eyes as realization jolted through him with another wave of racking nausea.

The pills.

He had been poisoned.

Shinichi scrambled to the sink and tried to spit out any residual poison in his mouth. The urge to gag prickled in his throat, however he swallowed it down firmly. Vomiting would only make things worse – his stomach was better equipped to tolerate stronger acid than the oesophagus. As long as he did not know what sort of poison he had ingested, the safer bet would be not to retch.

If he started though, there would be a large chance he would not be able to stop. And if he lost consciousness, he could easily choke on his own vomit. There was only one solution; he needed to call for an ambulance. He doubled over, trying to reach for the phone on the kitchen counter, however it was too far out of his reach. With mustered effort, he changed his position using the closest chairs as temporarily support.

Before he managed to move an inch in the direction, a jolt of pain burned in his chest and he grabbed his other hand that was not clutching the chair to his chest. He vaguely felt the spiking pain as his fingertips burrowed into the exposed skin. For a second, a laughter bubbled in his throat at the sad realization that poisoned pills might be the end of him after all – that he had survived the Apotoxin 4869 and the equally dangerous antidote just to die from a normal poisoned formed tablet. One should think he was used to the feeling that spread across his insides alarmingly fast, and he noticed a second later that he could no longer feel his feet, and from the rest of his body, he felt only a tingle of awareness as the burning feeling of the poison burned his insides.

He crouched over, trying to stay upright as he finally succumbed to his body's demanding urge to gag. The bile scorched his throat and tasted bitterly of unmistakable iron. He tried keeping his eyes open as another wave surged up his throat and he vaguely recognized the crimson colour splattered across the floor as salvia dribbled down his chin.

He tried mustering up the last of his energy in a last ditch effort to reach for the phone. Adrenaline flooded sluggishly through him and he let go of his chest to extend his arm. His upper body lurched forwards, but his legs did not comply, and so he stumbled. The chair kept his balance for only a second, before it slid of under his grip

He went tumbling into the floor, the impact making his teeth smash against each other painfully and a hollow thrum of pain shot through him from the impact, mixing with the burning sensations of his insides slowly getting liquefied.

For a brief second, Shinichi was tempted to succumb to the almost familiar feeling of poison wrecking havoc on his system. However, he knew doing so would mean his death - this was not Haibara's Apotoxin.

Shinichi stared up to the counter with desperate eyes, his arm lifting to reach even though he knew it would never be able to come in range to grasp the item of his desperate quest. His energy was sapping with an alarming speed, and he could feel the strength from every limb of his body was starting to drain away as well. Without realising it, his arm fell forwards onto the floor with a soft 'thump' as his gaze blurred into whiteness. He let out a desperate gasp. Whether it was formed as a plea for help or just a strangle of pain, he could not tell.

Suddenly he felt cold hands on his shoulder. The ice subdued the burning from within only for a moment, and he vaguely felt someone turning him around. He squinted upwards, however he could only see the blurry contour of a face. There was a moving, black void on the face and it only took him a second to realize it was a mouth opening and closing as though the person was trying to speak.

Shinichi let out a painful moan as another wave of scorching heat raked across his spine, and his back arched in a desperate attempt to escape it. He managed to grasp the cloth on the person's chest in a weak grip. However, he noticed in his desperate effort to keep conscious that he could not feel the fabric underneath his fingertips. There was nothing but the convulsing agony.

His eyes blurred over again, and this time he could not fight the numbness overcoming his sensing as he finally succumbed to the nothingness which had threatened to overcome him for the last few minutes.

…

The only thing he could hear was the sound of blood rushing in his ears, and the harsh inhale and exhale of breaths as he tried to ignore the pulsating agony in his leg. He should have been more worried over the fact he could feel neither his toes nor the warm and sticky blood dripped down his leg. The fringes of his hair was glued to his forehead, and if he opened his eyes, he would have seen nothing but blurring images and white spots drifting across his vision.

Conan was still trying to untie the knot, but his fingers felt heavy and slippery and he constantly lost his grip every few seconds. He tried listening to the sound of Gin or any other member of the Black Organisation, but it was hard to hear anything above the throbbing of his head.

For a few moments, his throat clenched at the realization that he might die here – alone, cold and stuck in the body of a small child. Very few people would know what actually happened to him, Kudo Shinichi, his true identity. He shook the thought away a moment later, it would not do to wallow in self-pity at this current moment. He had to stay strong just a little while longer.

He suddenly heard the footsteps of someone approaching, and his heart started to throb against his throat as fear raked down his spine when he recognized the unmistakable strides of the assassin who had put him into this predicament. Coarse fingers suddenly slid into his hair and yanked his head backwards, producing a protesting groan from his lips. He forced his eyes open to see cold eyes scowling down to him.

Gin seemed to have finally lost his patience. "Either you'll tell me what I want to know, or you'll wish you were never born." The glint of metal flashed in the corner of his eyes, before a knife was pressed into his throat.

Conan tried swallowing, and a tongue darted up to moisten his lips. He could taste the iron from semi-dried blood. "Let me guess, you'll let me die without pain if I do?"

Gin's nostrils flared for a moment before his eyes narrowed with a dangerous expression. "You expect too much kindness from me. Your death will either be swift and painful, or lasting and excruciating."

The detective parted his lips to respond – the threat was entirely too classical and cliché for his tastes, but was back-handed before he had the chance – Gin clearly seeing the sarcastic reply forming in Conan's face. For a moment, the world flashed behind his eyes, and he let out a shuttering gasp as everything throbbed agonizingly. For a second, he wondered how much pain his small body could take before it succumbed. His head felt woozy from the blood lost, and his thigh convulsed in painful cramps as the wound kept pumping out blood. Gin's threat did not matter much anymore.

He would not last long.

Gin kept tugging on his hair painfully, and his voice lowered to come out with a threatening hiss. "Where are your little friends hiding out, hmh? Where is Shiho –"

Conan could not hear the rest of the assassin's words as another wave of pain and exhaustion washed over him. The talking drowned in the thunderous rushing of blood in his ears, and for a second he wondered if he was imagining the loud crack that echoed across the warehouse.

…

Shinichi was floating in a world of nothingness. There was only a dark void surrounding him in the silent and peaceful non-scape. No up or down, let of right. Nor was there any pain. His thoughts were lulled and there was barely a recognition of existence. There were no air or oxygen to inhale nor any breeze to stir the silence – he simply floated above a world filled with nothingness.

The pain from the damaged muscles in his leg had ceased aching – something that had been bothering him for months. His chest was no longer laced with pain, and his insides did not burn as if they were slowly liquefying. For a long time, he felt utterly at peace. And the emotion mirrored in his face. The worry that had etched between his brows had vanished, the grim expression always twitching in the corner of his eyes smoothed out. If he had bothered looking, the previous dozen or so scars on his torso had faded away, leaving only smooth, porcelain skin.

Suddenly, his ears twitched as a low tone echoed through the non-scape. It was quiet, far in the distance and subdued. The noise would not have been noticeable had the void not been so eerie quiet for a long time. Shinichi decided to ignore it, instead willing his mind to return to the peaceful numbness that had been surrounding him.

However, now that the sound had been detected, the humming only increased, slowly and almost unnoticeable, it amplified gradually over an indefinite amount of time. There were no words within the tone, and as he started to stir from the slumber hooked around his consciousness, he started to recognize it as a series of soft beeping from what he assumed was from a machine. Once or twice, he could hear something underneath the tone, something far more irregularly but still undistinguishable and incomprehensible to his mind.

Shinichi twitched his nose, a sluggish annoyance started to bubble in his chest as he tried to lift his arms to block the sound. It had started to annoy him as it pierced through the calm and peaceful state he had been in. However, he could not move as his arms felt far too heavy to manipulate.

Suddenly, something warm and alive brushed against his fingers. It sent a sparkle of electricity across his skin, a feeling he had not felt in a very long time.

He managed to crack his eyelids open. They felt heavy as though bolts were attached to them. Bright light flooded into his retina, it cut too sharply after the darkness of the non-scape and he let his eyelid fell shut to shield himself from the intruding glare. He was suddenly back to floating in the nothingness again as numbness crept back in, and he opened his mind to the peaceful silence in hopes it would keep the pain at bay.

However, the noise persisted, turning sharper and more clearly. His skin started to itch as he remembered he had limbs. The previous beeping echoing across the void, and twisted and spiked until he could hear separate voices humming with undistinguishable words to his senses.

There was a warm hand in his, and he could vaguely feel something warm and wet hitting his bare skin.

"Shinichi."

His breath hitched in his throat, he knew that voice and would always recognize it no matter what state he was currently in. He could hear the anguish and sadness and suddenly, his heart convulsed in a pain that had nothing to with any physical injury.

Shinichi tried lifted his eyelids again. However he could not seem to find the corresponding muscle to send the command to. Next he tried working his vocal cord with just as much success. The numbness of the non-scape threatened to pull him under once more, but this time, instead of letting it overcome him, he struggled against it.

Ran was in distress. She needed his help.

In the end, all he could managed was to squeeze her hand weakly. There was a second where nothing happened, before fingers slipped underneath his. A shadow was darkening his vision as someone presumable leaned over him. There was a gurgle of sounds as someone most likely tried speaking, but the words did not register in his mind.

He was lulled back to slumber from the chirping of a familiar voice as he vaguely felt fingertips brush against his cheek.

…

The warehouse was suddenly filled with yelling and gunshots. Gin disappeared somewhere in the chaos, and Conan sagged against his restrains, not able to keep track of the movements. He did not know who was out there, friend or foe, but at the moment, it did not matter as he felt the last of his strength draining away. He suddenly started to feel numb, the aching pain slowly felt more like a warm distant fire.

There was suddenly hands on his body as someone lifted him from the chair. He forced his eyes to open. Dull panic bubbling in his chest at the prospect of seeing the cold eyes of someone wanting him dead. Instead, he was shocked to the core as he slowly recognized the blob in his vision as –

"Hattori?" the name escaped his lips in a soft whisper.

"Hang in there Kudou. I got you, I got you –" came the response drifting from afar - he vaguely noticed they were moving.

Conan let his eyes drift away as the last residue of horror and panic sapped from his body with the realization it was over.

No longer was there any chance that he accidentally betrayed his friends – and he hoped whoever had joined in on the rescuing operation would apprehend Gin and the rest of the members hanging around.

He let himself succumb to the darkness with open arms, a small part of him not caring if he would be able to open his eyes again.

…

He was ire aware of his surroundings the next time he surfaced to something akin to consciousness. The beeping of the machine pierced his ears. However instead of being confused like he had been earlier, he recognized it immediately as the EEG and the heart monitor.

He tried to frown, but could not seem to control the contractions of muscles in his forehead – as he tried to remember why he was back at the hospital.

For a second, his heart leapt with the idea that he had never woken up from the first time around and the last year and a half had only been a vivid hallucination. That when he woke up, he would be back to being an eight-year-old boy.

He squashed the thought a moment later. The past year had felt too real to be just a dream, and if he concentrated, he could feel the softness of the blanket brushing against his toes, and with the way it dipped at the end of the mattress, he could only be back in his grown-up body.

Shinichi would vaguely hear a murmur of voices in the background, and as he focused on the voice, the volume increased. After a few minutes, he could finally distinguish the spoken words. It was Ran.

"As the gong sounded, Philip Lombard came out of his room and walked to the head of the stairs. He moved like a panther, smoothly and noiselessly. There was something of the panther about him altogether. A beast of prey - pleasant to the eye. He was smiling to himself. A week - eh? He was going to enjoy that week.

In her bedroom, Emily Brent, dressed in black silk ready for dinner, was reading her Bible. Her lips moved as she followed the words:

"The heathen are sunk down in the pit that they made: in the net which they hid is their own foot taken. The Lord is known by the judgement which he executeth: the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands. The wicked shall be turned into hell."

Her tight lips closed. She shut the Bible. Rising, she pinned a cairngorm brooch at her neck, and went down to dinner."

The edges of Shinichi's lip twitched in amusement. Only Ran would purposely choose not to read him anything from Arthur Conan Doyle or Edogawa Rampo. He let her murmurs of And then there were none by Agatha Christie washed over him. He still felt as though he was floating on a sky with the frazzled edges of his mind lulled into a peaceful numbness. He vaguely realized he should be more concerned of possibly wounds on his body. However, he imagined the feeling was muffled from the morphine coursing through his veins.

There was a flutter of movements from somewhere in the room, and suddenly Ran stopped reading as something fell to the floor, evident from the clattering that filled the room a second later.

He managed to open his eyelids marginally and he peered through his eyelashes. The light was still bright, but no longer blindingly so. For a few moments, all he could see was a blurry whiteness, and his heart leapt to his throat at the possibility of him being blind. The panic subsided however, as his vision gradually returned to him.

Ran was bending over, picking up several items that had scattered across the floor. Her hair had three days' worth of grease, and he imagined he had been laying in the hospital for at least two days. There were dark bangs underneath her eyes, and her make-up had smudged up, indicated that she had been crying.

Shinichi's stomach clenched in guilt once more over making his childhood friend constantly worry about him. How many times had they been in this situation? There really was no surprise she had gotten over him when he was so unreliable and often prone to self-destruction in his need to chase mysteries and getting himself into dangerous near-death situations.

His throat constricted as he tried to remember why he was in the hospital. His mind only turned up blank.

Ran turned on her heels, but she froze on her steps as their eyes suddenly met. A gasp escaped her and she dropped everything she had just picked up as she hurried to his bedside. She grabbed his hand and fresh tears started to trail down her chin.

"Shinichi, you are awake. Thank god, we were so worried."

His eyes prickled from the pure relief and happiness on her face, but underneath them lurked sadness and guilt. His thoughts were too scattered and frazzled to even try interpret the reason behind it. He wanted to reach out and trail his fingers down her cheeks to reassure her he was fine, but his arms felt as though they were filled with lead and refused to follow such a simple command. He parted his lips to speak, but all that escaped was a gurgled sound.

Ran blinked for a second, before a fond smile quirked her lips. "Don't try speaking just yet. Here, let me –" she let go of him and turned to fill a glass with water sitting on the window sill. From nowhere, she produced a straw – or maybe it had always been there just out of his vision.

She turned back and placed the straw carefully between his lips. For a second, he was unsure where the corresponding muscles in his throat existed, before he started to slurp automatically as thirst washed over him. The water felt cool down his throat, and he could vaguely feel the liquid as it hit his stomach.

Not long after, he started to gulp down a pocket of air as the glass emptied, and his head fell back into the pillow. He licked his lips slowly and gazed up with gratitude shining in his eyes at the woman standing above him.

"Thank you," his voice felt raspy and unused.

Ran dried her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. A small laughter bubbled in her throat as she sat down on the adjacent chair and put away the glass.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," she spoke softly, one of her hand reached up to comb her fingers through his fringes.

His eyes started to drop at the comforting feeling washed through him. Despite the soreness of his throat, and the aching of a headache brewing behind his forehead, and the familiar throbbing of his left leg, he had never felt as peaceful as he had now.

"Try getting some sleep," Ran voice came from far away. He let himself drift away back into oblivious with the comforting knowledge that he was not alone.

…

Shinichi was fully awake the next time he woke. His eyes popped open as the last residue of sleep dissipated. He got a better look at the room this time. Several bouquets of flowers occupied the window sill with small white, square cards wishing him – presumably – a good recovery. The dimness and angles of the light filtering through the blinders indicated that it was late in the afternoon. There were two uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs by the bed and a small table against the wall. Up on the ceiling in one corner hung a small television, and he could vaguely hear the murmur of voices as a squad of female anime heroines battled against a comically drawn enemy.

He was alone.

Shinichi sat up, expecting the room to spin around him, but it stood mercifully motionless. He still felt groggy and tired, but his skin had started to prickle from being stationary for so long and his back ached where a spring had been digging into his shoulder blade. Suddenly the urge to get up and stretch his legs was overwhelming and he threw the cover to the side and swung his legs over the edge – his left leg throbbed in protest as he did, but he ignored it.

His heart started to beat against his throat, and he knew logically he would not be able to keep his weight if he tried to stand. Nevertheless, his mind itched with the urgent feeling he had forgotten something important. He clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into the mattress in frustration at the clear missing pieces of his memories.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to break out. You would have the entire police taskforce on your trail trying to track you down."

Shinichi's head snapped in the direction of the doorway, his heart hammered in his chest in surprise -he had not noticed someone had entered. Kuroba Kaito stood in the door way, his clothes were a ruffled mess as though he had either slept in them for a night or thrown them on hurriedly. For once, his hair looked flaccid and tired, rather than the usual wild defiance to the laws of gravity. In his right hand, he held several colourful strings attached to the balloons bobbing in the air above his head. Several read 'Get well soon', one with a sick bee reading 'Bee better soon' and another balloon with a picture of Batman.

There was a hesitant expression on his face as if he was trying to carefully look stoic. Something dark swam in the shadows behind his eyes and his lips were thinned with worry mingled with a trace of relief in the creases of his eyes.

Shinichi felt his mouth going dry, and his stomach suddenly clenched painfully. Something had to be wrong if it produced such a grave expression on the magician's face. He had only ever seen Kaito wearing a smile.

"I wasn't –" he coughed as his throat constricted around the words. He tried speaking again, however he doubled over instead as he continued coughing and he grabbed his chest as pain laced through him.

Suddenly, there was a warm hand on his back and a glass was carefully placed in his palms. The hand did not withdraw, rather the fingers wrapped around Shinichi's in order to make sure he did not accidentally drop the glass as Kaito lifted their hands upwards towards the detective's lips.

He gulped the water down, half afraid he would accidentally choke on it. However the magician was patient as only a trickle of water was swallowed per mouthful. Tension slowly drained from his shoulders, and he was gently pushed back into the bed.

Kaito placed the glass back on the small table, and with a flourish movement of his hand, he was suddenly holding a white handkerchief. The cloth felt soft against Shinichi's chin as Kaito dabbed it carefully in order to soak up the droplets of water that had escaped from the corner his lips earlier. He sat back a moment later in order to regard the detective carefully with neutral eyes.

Shinichi lowered his gaze, trying to muster enough energy to not flush underneath the intense, scrutinizing gaze. He cleared his throat. Now that it was no longer prickling to try to speak again. Unsurprisingly his words came out hoarsely from the lack of use.

"I wasn't trying to escape."

Kaito did not smile as he expected, instead his lips quirked downwards and his eyes darted to the door.

Shinichi waited in silence for a response that never came, and the detective let out a soft sigh. He trailed his fingers through his greasy hair. The accumulation of grease against his fingertips indicated that he had been in the hospital for at least three days. Had it already been a day since he woke up last with Ran reading to him? He frowned again, trying to remember why was he hospitalized; the last thing he remembered was going to bed. He turned his face to look up at the magician and licked his lips in order to moisten them lest they started to crack and bleed.

"What happened?"

Kaito's eyes snapped back to Shinichi with surprise and alarm flashing in his eyes. He curled his fingertips into the fabric on his pants. "You don't – you don't remember?"

The detective shook his head in response, only to regret it a second later as nausea hit him. He groaned and pressed the palm of his hand into his left eye-socket. "I have no clue, I remember falling asleep," he frowned, the lines etched itself across his forehead and made him look a decade older. "Did I have an early-onset heart attack? Rare but not unheard of at my age," he tried remember whether or not his family had a history of heart diseases –

Only to come to a stop when Kaito inhaled sharply and shook his head. "You are impossible, you know that?" The easy-going buoyancy crept into the tone of voice, and his eyes danced with humour for a fraction of a second before it disappeared and was replaced with a more hollow expression.

Shinichi shot him an odd look as adrenaline started to beat into his veins. "Then what happened?" he tried to access his memories again, but once again there was nothing but a blank - as though his subconscious had suppressed it in order to keep him sane.

Kaito blinked as his eyes darted in his direction again. There was a noticeable cringing in his shoulders, and for a second Shinichi could see that the wheels in the magician's mind contemplating lying or not responding. In the end he dropped his head with an inaudible sigh.

"You ingested poison."

His hand fumbled around the knob as he pushed the door open and he grabbed after the bottle of Vicodin on the second shelf. His hand shook as he tried to screw it open, and as the lid popped open, the contents suddenly spilled across the wooden area of the bench.

Shinichi swore loudly, and grabbed after the pills. He picked up two and swallowed them, before sweeping as many as he could reach back into the bottle.

Before he was aware of it, he had already shot up from the bed, and he would have crumbled to a pile of limbs and torso if Kaito had not grabbed him. His heart hammered in his chest as adrenaline flooded his system. He gulped from air as he finally remembered – someone had poisoned him. He grabbed the cloth of Kaito's sweater in a tight grip.

"We have to –" we have to find her, " – did you get her?" Pain laced through his head in a throbbing headache. He pressed the keel of his palm to his forehead as his shoulders shook. He remembered now, the suspicious pharmacist who had been acting strange. She had to be the culprit. There were no other possibilities as no one had access to his studio and he highly doubted Hattori Heiji would have a reason to try to kill him.

"Wo-ow, Shinichi, calm down," Kaito grunted as he tried keeping his balance while manoeuvring the detective back into bed without tumbling over. His fingers grasped over Shinichi chest trying to find a leverage to keep him from keeling over. It sent a shiver raking down his spine with an odd warmth.

Shinichi did not struggle as he was placed back on the bed. His head swam and he let out a gasp as he tingled all over with pain and exhaustion. For a second, his vision blurred, and he kept down the panic bubbling in his chest from the feeling of being utterly powerless.

"Hey, Shinichi. Stay with me," came the muffled voice, laced with concerned and alarm, from far away as though Kaito was speaking to him from under the water.

He could vaguely feel calm fingers brush against his jaw and chin, and Shinichi's heart suddenly fluttered as he realized that Kaito had called him by his first name for the second time in almost as many minutes. The numbness of the morphine started to smooth his frazzled mind, and slowly the tension in his muscles started to drain as he started to float back into the nothingness.

He almost left himself drift back into unconsciousness, when he remembered he was not alone in the room when Kaito moved. The urgency prickled across his skin again – there was something he had to ask. His hand reached out almost on its own and he grasped around the magician's wrist with a tight grip.

Kaito stopped moving immediately, and he heard the inhale of a breath and the murmur of words.

Shinichi turned his head in the direction of the dark contour of Kaito. His eyes were still blurred over, and were almost crossed trying to focus his vision. It was hard to fight against the exhaustion of his body – it would have been so easy to just let go and give in to the nothingness.

He cleared his throat and parted his lips to croak out, "Did you find her?"

He needed to know, could not rest before knowing the crime had been solved and justice served. Hopefully, they had found her before she had a chance to escape. He tried putting pressure on his fingers in order to squeeze the wrist he was clutching, however he had no strength to work with.

If Kaito heard him or answered, he could not tell. The sounds in his ears were muffled and incoherent. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, willing himself back to health. Gradually, the grip on the magician's wrist loosened and his arm dropped to his side on their own accord as he finally succumbed to the nothingness again. The soothing hum whispered in the back of his mind as his energy drained away with his consciousness.

…

Shinichi opened his eyes and blinked away the white haze obscuring his vision. He turned his head marginally to see the still form of Kuroba Kaito dozing off in one of the chairs. His features looked softer now, almost doll-like and peaceful like a young boy in his slumber. Only the mess of his hair ruined the picture of tranquillity as it had somehow gotten to be a more obstructive untidiness during the detective's slumber. Shinichi noticed a mole underneath his left eye that he had never been aware of before, and he wondered for a second if Kaito had a habit of concealing it with make-up.

The magician stirred slightly from where he had been curled up on the seat, almost as though he could sense that he was being observed. He stretching and let out a yawn as he opened his eyes, reminding Shinichi of a cat. It was oddly adorably.

Kaito suddenly sat up as the situation finally clicked in and his eyes softened at seeing Shinichi awake once more. He scooted forward on his seat in order to get closer to the detective just in case he struggled with talking.

Shinichi felt a little confused at the sight, wondering why Kaito had stayed. He had originally thought the magician had only visited for a brief moment, however now he had to reconsider the analysis.

"How long was I out?" he voices his thoughts, wondering how long he had been out, and was pleasantly surprised that the words did not come out as a croak.

Kaito's lips quirked upwards on their own. "Just for twenty-thirty minutes."

Shinichi had a distinct feeling the engineer student was lying – he hadn't seen Kaito looking at any timepiece, but decided not to linger on the thought.

Kaito licked his lips, and there was a quiver of hesitation in his eyes. He scratched his cheek for a second, before finally voicing the question that burned on his tongue. "You were talking about someone before you fell asleep. A woman –"

Shinichi sat up slowly as the magician spoke, and he nodded in affirmation. His heart fluttered in his chest with anticipation and the urgent need to know what happened to the perpetrator who had caused his current state. "Yes, of course. Did you find her?"

The magician's brows furrowed in confusion. "Who are you –"

Shinichi felt his stomach drop as an uneasy feeling spread across his body. If Kaito had no knowledge – and he realized a second too late that maybe the engineer student had not been the right person to ask since he had no direct tie to the police – which means she was still at large. He gritted his teeth in aggravation, and he would have gotten out of bed there and then to join in the search if he had the energy to do so.

"Damnit," he swore, hiding his face underneath his arm in frustration. This would be the second time someone had almost gotten away with killing him. Last time it had taken him over two years to apprehend the assassins. There was a soft touch on his arm, which made him move his limb an inch up so he could peer into the confused and concerned expression on Kaito's face. As their eyes met, Kaito's lips curled into a soft smile.

"You alright there, Kudou?"

Shinichi's heart dropped on its own accord as the magician spoke his surname, rather than his first name as he had done previously. He chided himself a second later. They were merely newly acquainted, and felt confused at his own reaction. Of everyone he knew, only Ran and Sonoko used his first name – and the latter only because they were friends from childhood. Everyone else addressed him as 'Kudou' despite being acquainted for years. Unless the situation was dire.

He nodded in response, and his lips twitched upwards in a humourless smile – deciding not to linger on the stray though. "As well as anyone can be in this situation."

Kaito cocked his head as a flash of uncertainty flickered across his features, before he controlled his facial expression and a small grin curled on his lips. "Good thing you have as many lives as a cat."

Shinichi gave a non-committal sound in response. "At least," he mumbled under his breath. Memories of being poisoned, shot at, kidnapped and stabbed numerous times flashing in his head.

The magician licked his lips, and once again he looked hesitant and slightly lost. It puzzled the detective, as he had never seen Kaito uncertain about anything. Or if he was, he never let anyone be able to read it through the flawless mask he hid behind.

He cleared his throat. "Kuroba? Is something wrong, you are acting strange," he furrowed his eyebrows – naturally the behaviour was not outside of the logical perimeters for someone to react to a friend being hospitalized. However, he could tell there was something else bothering the magician. His heart suddenly leapt as it dawned upon him. Someone had found him in the apartment – the only one who would have been close enough to –

Shinichi inhaled sharply, guilt soaring through his system and made him slightly lightheaded for not realizing it sooner. Who would not be acting strange upon discovering someone dying, no matter the situation? The chances that it had been the first time Kaito had ever seen someone on the verge of death was large. The detective wondered if anyone had even given Kaito a second thought, considering how his friends were used to walking the edge of life and death.

"Are you alright, Kuroba? I'm terribly sorry you had to find me like that –"

Kaito blinked in confusion, and he swallowed thickly as his eyes lowered – it took the detective only a second to identify the tears swimming in the magician's eyes and his stomach twisted in guilt again. He should have been more careful.

He switched tactics, deciding to keep the conversation light lest Kaito lost his cool. "You saved my life, thank you." Shinichi breathed out in gratitude. If it had not been for the neighbour, then the pharmacist-assassin would have succeeded in her mission and he would have died alone on his kitchen floor. Who knew how long it would be until someone noticed his absence and come searching for his whereabouts? He shook away the morbid thoughts a moment later, this was not the time nor the place seeing the magician clearly so distraught.

Kaito's eyes darted back to Shinichi's face with a startled expression. Several emotions flashed across his features too fast to read. His lips quivered for a second in hesitation, before he parted his lips to ask with a small voice. "You are grateful?"

Shinichi frowned again, his pulse suddenly beating against his throat with a feeling of foreboding. Why would he be feeling anything but grateful? He opened his mouth to voice his confusion, when a jolt of understanding suddenly washed through him and he sat up in surprise. For a second, the room swam just a little bit, but he ignored it as he narrowed his eyes at the magician.

"You are joking," his voice was hard as steel and he felt the muscles around his eyes pulsating as a dormant anger swept through him. That would explain everything. Every action and careful chosen words from Kaito's side and Ran's soft spoken words. And the reason the police had not incarcerated the woman –

Kaito's shoulders tensed and he almost looked as though he was cowering from the sudden fury blazing in the detective's voice. His mouth shot open to respond. However, what he was going to say, Shinichi did not know. Neither did he want to hear as he continued to hiss.

"You don't know anything about me or my life. Don't you dare to assume something you have no knowledge about," the ire hammering in his chest started to make him feel light headed, and in the background he vaguely registered the heart monitor started to pip. He swallowed thickly as his arms started to shake from the strain of sitting upright. However he refused to lay back down. Betrayal laced through him at the thought that his friends – the people he regarded as family – had even considered the possibility that he would –

"Get out," he gritted through clenched teeth.

Kaito sat up, his palms lifting up to hover in the space between them as he regarded the detective silently with uncertainty and shock in his face. "Kudou –"

"I was poisoned, you arsehole. I could never – would never, consider suicide. I have lived through far too much to just give up. It would be akin to murder. Now get out!"

The magician stumbled a step backwards with pain and guilt flickering in his eyes. "I'm – I am – I didn't –"

"Out!" his voice rose as loud as his vocal cords would allow him, his heart beat with betrayal and revulsion over the whole situation. Kaito had only known him for a little over two months. How dared he assume Shinichi's actions? He knew nothing about what the detective had been through and had no right to make assumptions! He had even started to consider Kaito a friend despite everything – but this? This stung, to the bottom of his stomach.

A nurse appeared in the doorway with a frown on her lips, having heard the commotion and came to investigate. "You there," she chided in Kaito's direction. "I need you to leave, you are upsetting the patient."

Kaito froze, eyes darted to Shinchi and back to the nurse. His shoulders shook as his eyes swam of guilt and pain, he looked as though tears were prickling in his eyes and his hands twitching with the need to reach out and to apologise. However, he did not have to take more than a look at Shinichi's face to know the detective was not willing to listen at this point.

The detective turned his head away from the magician, and Kaito's words withered away. There was a moment of complete silence, before Shinichi heard the sound of the magician's footsteps as he stepped out of the room. He could vaguely feel the last, aching gaze Kaito sent his way before he disappeared completely from view.

Shinichi fell back into the bed and hid his face underneath the palms of his hands as he let out a deep, quivering breath. The rage subsided a moment later and filled him with a hollow achiness of loneliness and sadness. How had it gotten to this? How had anyone considered just for a fraction of a second that he could –

He swallowed down the tears burning in his eyes. How had things gotten to this? The was a soft whisper in the back of his head that his friends had a just cause considering the possibility, but he firmly ignored the very thought as he started to drift back into unconsciousness from the vary exhaustion.