A/N: Okay, folks, here's the 17th chapter, just as I promised you. This was one of the chappies I had planned out early on, so it didn't give me as uch of a headache as some of the other chappies^^ I'm especially fond of the first half, because it gave me an opportunity to use all the medical terms my doctor (and medical advisor for this fiction) had given me^^ I also like it since it's another one of those Kogoro-moments *gg* Duno why, but I kind of like the guy *lol*

I'm happy that you all like the story (or nearly all of you^^) and I was totally hyped at reading all those reviews on the last chapter. The climax was something I'd also planned out early on, it was basically the first thing I though up (I just built the story around that^^) so I'm happy that the majority seems to like it so much^^

Okay, basically, there's just one more chapter to go and then that'll be it. At least for this fiction^^ I have a few other ideas bouncing around in my head, but I haven't been able to work out a plot yet^^ Anyway, read, enjoy, leave a comment if you like^^

Regard, Callie

Chapter 17

Thursday 23rd September 2011

Midoridai Police Hospital

14:48 PM

Kogoro POV

Why don't they allow one to smoke inside? the moustached detective wondered irritably, even as he extinguished his last cigarette. He had smoked an unholy amount since the little guy was brought to the hospital, merely in a vain attempt to calm himself down.

He was twitchy, he knew that, the adrenaline still kept his muscles active, even though the danger was past. But it left him with nothing to do, which caused him to smoke even more than usual.

Conan had been brought to Midoridai Police Hospital, at the request of Megure himself. Once more Mouri found himself in a white hospital hallway, pacing around like a caged tiger while waiting for news on the kid's condition.

He hated it.

Once again Conan had been injured and was now in the care of doctors, because the kid simply could not keep his nose out of a case. Of all the cases, Kogoro wished that he had kept out of this one. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't have been so exhausted, he wouldn't have been kidnapped.

He wouldn't have been injured like that.

Shaking his head, Kogoro allowed himself to recall the kid's condition. It far outweighed anything the sleuth had seen so far, at least in relation to Conan. Even the gunshot seemed trivial by comparison. At least it had been only one wound, life-threatening as it had been. Now, there seemed not an inch of the child's body that had escaped without some form of injury.

And the moment that bastard had held him... For that one moment, he had actually feared that he'd been too late. That the kid was dead. One of the (very few) things that were able to frighten him, even though he'd never tell anybody.

He'd been so shaken that it had taken him a small moment longer than it should have to find a pulse. The relief that had washed over him as his fingers had found the faint beating was hard to put into words.

On the drive to the hospital, he'd gone in the ambulance, loath to leave the child out of his sight for so much as a moment. And in the glaring light inside the wagon, he'd been able to fully see the extend of Conan's injuries. The medics had swarmed around the child, had attached tubes and needles, had tried to stabilize his condition as much as possible.

And he had just sat there, unable to tear his gaze from the broken body in front of him.

When they had arrived at the hospital, the doctors had immediately whisked Conan away, past a set of doors and had commanded him to wait there. That had been nearly three hours ago.

And in those three hours, he had smoked at least fifteen cigarettes, had paced something close to four miles (if one added it all together) and for the most part, had blamed himself. He should have kept a closer watch on the kid, he knew how often Conan ended up right in the middle of trouble. He should have suspected this. He should have... The sleuth sighed at his own thoughts. He should have done so many things. But he hadn't and now they were at this point again.

Turning, the moustached man let his gaze sweep over the people waiting with him. The Osakan brat had arrived shortly after him, together with Takagi. The official stood a bit apart from them, while the tanned teen sat hunched on a chair, his eyes nearly glaring at the floor. Even to his limited knowledge of the boy, he seemed unnaturally pale.

Next to him sat the girl from Osaka, her hand gripping the boy's sleeve, generally looking only concerned.

And then there was Ran.

She always was beside herself when Conan was hurt and it pained him to see his daughter like that. She was beyond distraught, her pale skin nearly grey with worry, while she occasionally sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes.

She looked disturbingly like that time when the kid had been shot, utterly frightened out of her head.

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could possibly say to calm her down, not when he himself worried about the kid. He would not be able to be convincing enough when he attempted to tell her that Conan would be all right, that he'd survived stuff like this before. Because the simple truth was, nothing like this had ever occurred before.

He'd never been hurt this badly.

Therefore he was not even sure himself if the kid would pull through. And it gnawed at him.

Once more he found himself pacing the corridor, trying to ignore the nervous knot in his gut that seemed to twist ever tighter the more time passed. He tried thinking of something he could do, if only to give his mind something to concentrate on.

But he came up empty-handed.

He'd already called all the necessary people, first of all Agasa, who had promised to inform Conan's parents and the rest of the kid's rag-tag group. He'd had a quick talk with the officials, even though he couldn't remember what had been said. Hell, he'd even called Eri.

There was nothing left he could do, except pace the corridor and wait.

For someone like him, who wasn't possessive of any patient nature to begin with, that was almost too much. Or too little.

Whatever...

He forced his body to stop moving, chances were he'd only make his daughter worry even more. For Ran' sake, he'd stay still.

Though it wasn't only because of Ran, he admitted to himself. All of the teens sitting and waiting seemed to be ready to break down soon. Eerily enough that Osakan brat seemed closest at the moment.

Kogoro knew that the teen had struck up a weird kind of friendship with Conan and as such, the teen likely worried as well. He just tried to hide it. And he probably had never seen the kid like this either.

The older sleuth would have followed that train of thought further, but the sudden opening of the doors pulled all his thought away from the Osakan kid. All his focus zeroed in on the doctor walking towards them all with a grim look on his face.

Quickly Kogoro summoned every bit of deductive talent to figure out what kind of news the man would bring.

The doctor didn't have that defeated look about him that doctors usually wore when having to tell relatives that the patient had died and that was enough to calm the detective. The man just looked exhausted. He also steered right for him, long practice telling him that he was the one to talk to.

"Are you Conan-kun's father?" the doctor asked politely, if tired.

"No. I'm ... his guardian," Kogoro answered with a shake of the head, "his parents have been informed already, they should be on the way here." he continued, spotting that the three teens with him drew closer. The Osakan boy was the first to speak.

"How's 'e doin'?" the boy asked with a slight tremble in his voice. Proof enough to Kogoro that the Osakan had never seen Conan injured this badly.

Not that I have...

He concentrated on the doctor again, even as the man heaved a slight sigh before he spoke once more.

"He's stable, for now. We moved him to the ICU however." the man would have launched into a full explanation, but Ran swiftly cut him off.

"Can I see him?" she asked, her look alone telling that she was prepared to do anything she could to get to the kid. Not that she needed to, since the doctor smiled slightly in a compassionate manner and gave his permission.

"Yes, but he's still under sedation. He will most likely sleep for a while. But you can go to him, just make sure he doesn't have a crowd." the man said and gave Ran directions to the ICU.

He needn't have bothered, they were all too familiar with the layout of this building, but Kogoro didn't want to point that out.

Quickly Ran, along with the Osakan girl, left. Kogoro was sure he'd have to drag his daughter away from Conan's bed later on, but for now, that was not an immediate concern. He needed details now, if only to prepare himself for what he might see when he went to Conan.

When the girls had left, the Osakan boy stepped closer, trading a silent look with the older sleuth. It spoke louder than any words could. The boy wanted information, just as he did.

"So, how is Conan?" Kogoro asked, forcing himself to sound as calm as possible. Even though he didn't feel like it.

"Well, as I said, for now, he is stable. But I won't lie to you, his condition is still bordering on critical. He has multiple fractures; two of his ribs are broken, as well as his clavicle. The shoulder has been dislocated but we managed to set it again. He'll have to wear a support for a few weeks and he'll need to take it easy after that. He also suffered multiple blows to the head, which caused moderate head trauma, so he'll likely be disoriented when he wakes up. He's lost a deal of blood, but fortunately we had an infusion already prepared for him. The greatest point of concern was the damage to the lungs, which was why we had to intubate him to help him breathe. If all goes well, we can remove the tube tomorrow." all this was stated in a detached, clinical manner that made Kogoro's insides twist.

Somehow I wish now I hadn't asked...

He wasn't given to dwell on that thought however, as the doctor continued on in his lengthy explanation.

"Though I say his condition is bordering on critical, it is still not as bad as it could have been. So far we're only worried about the trauma to his head and his lungs. There is also some internal bruising, especially in the throat, but that too should resolve itself in the coming days. He was dehydrated, which is why we have him on an I.V. drip of saline to help. He's not out of the woods yet, but provided he makes the night without any complications, he'll be fine in a few weeks, so long as he gets plenty of rest." the doctor finished, obviously trying to find a bright spot among all those injuries.

Which was not easy, all things considered. The injuries just seemed so numerous and severe, it was hard to find a silver lining anywhere.

"He's sedated now?" Kogoro asked, more to grant himself time to process all this information than to get more details.

"Yes, we thought it would be better for him to sleep for a while. We have installed several monitors to inform us should any of his conditions change, but overall, we wanted to reduce the amount of pain he would be in. This means he'll most likely sleep through the night. If necessary, we'll keep him under sedation for a while longer. When he wakes up, it's important that he doesn't become agitated. He needs rest now more than anything else." the doctor added with a stern face.

The man went on to delve into a deeper explanation of his treatment, but even though he tried, Kogoro hardly paid attention any more.

To have an explanation for all those injuries, to have them listed so clinically, only seemed to reinforce the overwhelming notion that the kid was hurt. Badly at that.

"We'll keep him monitored non-stop. When he shows improvement, we'll move him to the normal ward, but for now, it is better if he stays in ICU." the doctor concluded and Kogoro heard himself thanking the man, before he also made his way towards Conan's room. Behind him, he heard the heavy steps of the Osakan boy, seemingly as much in a daze as he was.

When they reached the room, and Kogoro stepped in, he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from cursing out loud. The boy looked more dead than alive.

In the stark light of the neon-lamps, his complexion was almost paper-white, which caused the dark bruises to seem all the worse. His left arm was encased in a support made of some sort of foam, to prevent any movement. Several tubes and cables were attached to the small form, with the monitors occasionally beeping and generally making all sorts of noises. A tube was fixed into his mouth and the steady, if disturbing, sound of a respirator sounded through the relatively still room. The small body seemed even smaller while surrounded by all this machinery, especially in that large bed.

Ran, as he had suspected, sat in a chair on the boy's right side. She held his hand in hers, but was careful not to disturb the wires around him. Tears stained her pale cheeks.

Kogoro was feeling like crap. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the small unconscious form lying in that seemingly giant hospital bed in front of him. All his thought revolved around the fact that if he'd been paying better attention, Conan wouldn't have ended up there to begin with.

After a few moments, he was aware that only Ran was in the room with him. Turning around, he could see the Osakan boy staring at Conan with the worry clearly written on his face, while the girl clung to his arm again.

Shaking his head sadly, the older sleuth quietly made his way over to Conan's other side and settled himself in a chair as well.

Being closer, he could see the extend of the bruises even more plainly, even saw the reddish outline of a hand-print across the small throat.

He could have died...

If they had come but a few minutes later, he could have been beyond their help. A few moments later and his heart might have given out and he would now not be in Intensive Care, but the morgue.

To himself, the moustached sleuth admitted that the thought terrified him.

Shuddering at the incredibly close call, Kogoro took a deep breath and thanked all the boy's stars that he had survived this ordeal.

Even though the doctor had sounded doubtful, Kogoro knew that Conan would be fine again. It might take weeks, perhaps even months, but he'd be all right again. It was just who Conan was, that kid had a will of steel.

Unaware that he did it, the older sleuth gently brushed through the dark bangs covering Conan's head, the way he had done it with Ran when she had been that age.

And in his head, he swore that he'd make sure that something like this would never happen to Conan again.

Sunday 26th September 2011

Midoridai Police Hospital

8:24 AM

Conan POV

Slowly his mind emerged back from the unrelenting darkness of unconsciousness. But as of yet, he was still unable to completely wake up, merely sound reached Conan's ears. A steady beeping, somewhere above his head and slightly to the left, drew his attention first. He felt like he should know that special beeping from somewhere, but couldn't recall exactly where he had heard it before. He just knew he had heard it. If he could only concentrate for a moment, maybe then he could figure something out.

But his mind swam back and forth between darkened oblivion and confused awareness, and when he tried to move, he found that he was unable to. Quickly panic rose in his throat as he recalled the twine that had bound his body when last he had woken. He concentrated on remembering what it had felt like to wake up before and decided that this was somehow different. For one thing, he couldn't hear that melody any more, that eerie rendition of some children's music-box. Now there was only that beeping somewhere in the room. As the shrunken sleuth focused on his arms and legs, he noticed that they were free of restraint now, though too heavy to attempt movement. Considering the fact that he had been trussed up like a turkey before, this was bearable. There also was the smell. It had smelled dusty and of blood before; but now only a very clean sort of scent surrounded him. He couldn't smell that much of it, but that scent also seemed vaguely familiar. The mini-tantei simply could not place it accurately.

As he concentrated on his body a bit more, he felt that the pain that had woken him before was considerably lessened now. It was no longer that sharp stinging sensation; it was more of a dull humming all throughout him. The tank that had seemed to have been firing shells in his brain also appeared to have run out of ammunition, in a manner of speaking. Now it was a tense sort of throbbing that synced with his other assorted aches.

Okay, I'm really curious now… What the fuck happened?!

Something disturbed his thinking; it felt as if his mind was swatted in cotton. But again, it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation, in truth it was a welcome reprieve from the agony of that last time he had woken up. He vaguely remembered terror clawing at his senses and the vestiges of his formidable brain. He could recall the Sandman speaking and the frightening sensation of not being able to breathe. He remembered the darkness that had followed, how Ran had been his last conscious thought.

And as he lay and remembered all this, he dimly became aware that the beeping above him quickened in pace. The dull aching also receded and made way to biting pain; though lessened; but pain nonetheless.

Mentally shrugging the shrunken teen decided that he was sick of lying around, trying to figure it out by himself. Surely if he opened his eyes, he would get the answer he sought. He tried it several times, but his eyelids felt so heavy, as if everything he did was slowed until it all crawled by at a snail's pace.

Opening his eyes hadn't been that much work before. Now it seemed like the single, most strenuous task Conan had ever attempted. His body was sluggish to respond to his mind's command and therefore it took a bit longer, but finally he was able to crack his eyes open a bit. This proved a bad thing to do, for as soon as light entered his field of vision, the tank in his brain fired off another volley which nearly threw the detective back into oblivion. But he grimly held against the luring voice of unconsciousness. He wanted to figure out what had happened and where he was and he needed to be awake to do that. Something surely had happened while Conan had been out of it and it was in his nature to find out what had changed.

He thought he could remember a glimpse of faces he knew, before his recollection had been lost again, but he couldn't decide if it had been reality or merely wishful thinking.

But the pain mounted and spiked for a brief moment, causing the shrunken teenager to groan involuntarily. Almost immediately afterwards, there was noise to his right, a shifting of clothes and a startled intake of breath. Then a voice, tired but relieved, carrying a heavy accent he was all too familiar with.

"Do yerself a favour an' lie still, ya ahou."

Though there was a curse-word in that short sentence, Conan could tell that it was not really meant like that. The guy sounded just too tired for that.

Forcing his eyes open once more, Conan tried to blink through the blurry vision until his gaze settled on the weary features of Hattori, slumping in a chair next to him. That was pretty much all Conan could gather, his brain seemed to be halfway in a state of unconsciousness still.

"Where..." he tried to speak, but only managed a hoarse croak that sounded nothing like his voice, along with an uncomfortable scratching sensation that prevented any further attempt.

"Where ya are?" Hattori guessed, lifting an eyebrow at him.

Conan merely nodded, not really relishing to try and talk again.

"Midoridai Police Hospital. Megure-keibu insisted ya be brought 'ere. Ya've been out fer nearly three days." the tanned sleuth explained.

"How're ya feelin'?" Hattori asked, throwing a glance to something on the other side of the bed.

For the moment, Conan paid no heed to it, merely concentrating on trying to answer the tanned sleuth. It took him a few moments, but eventually he managed to answer.

"Like shit..." he croaked and saw the Osakan detective heave a humourless chuckle.

"Ya look like it, ta boot." the teen threw back instantly, receiving a weak glare in return.

"Don' get me wrong, mate. Ya actually look a lot better than before. Yesterday, ya looked like Hell. Day before tha', ya looked dead. So trust me, lookin' like shit's an improvement." the tanned sleuth answered his silent glare with a slight smirk.

For a bit, Conan just breathed, feeling the biting agony in his chest to be considerably lessened. It lasted only a moment however, before a chord of music filtered through his subconscious. And though his higher cognitive functions realised the music to be only imaginary, he still recognized the slight twitch of his muscles, too little to be considered a flinch. With the disembodied memory of that chord of music that had haunted his every waking moment while in the Sandman's Hell, he also craved answers on the happenings after he had lost recollection. He didn't know what had become of the madman, whether he had been apprehended by the cops.

"Where... is he?" he croaked, setting his gaze onto his friend again. Briefly an irritated flash crossed the tanned features, along with a disgusted frown.

"'E's in custody. Got shot 'cause 'e wouldn't let go o' ya. Don't know where they put 'im. Th' cops won't tell me. Good thin' too, I guess, I might 'accidentally' pull a plug I ain't supposed ta." Hattori answered seriously.

Conan knew that Hattori had a short temper (he'd been on the receiving end of it once or twice), but usually the guy was not the vengeful type. Apparently this was not such an instance however.

That thought provoked another, a far more interesting one.

"How did you find me?" he managed to ask, noticing that while his voice seemed stronger, the croaking was still pretty evident. He'd have to ask what was up with that later on.

"Witness report. Killer's wife an' 'is shrink showed up at da station. Gave us a lead ta da guy's house and from there, ta da warehouse where we found ya."

"He killed the kids there. And he's kept trophies from them. Just like we thought." Conan informed the tanned teen, remembering his glasses on the shelf with the toys.

A strange expression on his friendly rival's face made Conan stop speaking. He had never seen that look before. At least not on his friend's face. Hattori seemed extremely disturbed by the reminder of that terrible room.

Seeing this, Conan vaguely remembered hearing his friend's voice just before everything had blanked again. He'd thought he had imagined it, after all, his ability to reason logically had been completely shot to pieces by the point the cavalry had arrived. Now, he had to know.

"You were there, weren't you?" the shrunken teen asked weakly, watching his friend deflate almost completely, his form slumping into the chair.

"Yeah," Hattori confirmed quietly, "yeah, I was there." He was silent for a small moment, before the tanned sleuth met Conan's gaze again with a fierce determination.

"An' don' ya ever dare ta scare us like tha' again, ya prick! Fer a damn moment it looked like 'e'd killed ya." the Osakan exclaimed, but he only appeared angry. Even in his tired and muddled state of mind, Conan could see that the experience had shaken his fellow detective.

The shrunken sleuth could understand that. If their roles had been reversed, he might have had the same reaction. The sentence his friend had ground out was interesting though.

"What happened?" Conan wanted to know.

"Da guy's wife pointed us ta da warehouse an' we went in. Megure-keibu had da whole station pulled out, I guess. We found 'im in a room wit' ya, tryin' to strangle ya. 'E didn't wanna let ya go, used ya as sort of a human shield, but then 'e sorta changed personalities an' dropped ya. Before 'e could get 'is hands on ya again, police started shootin'. Didn't pay much attention after tha'." Hattori explained quietly, only his eyes telling of the terrible scenery he had witnessed.

"Da cops are sortin' through the evidence at 'is house an' the place 'e took ya, but it could take a while 'till they got everythin'." The tanned teen concluded quietly.

"How long was I out?" Conan asked, somehow dreading the answer. The hazy feeling in his mind stemmed from painkillers, so he likely had been sedated for a while. But he had no idea how long.

"Today's Saturday. We found ya Thursday afternoon. Ya've been out since then. Still on da ICU though."

"ICU? How bad was it?" The non-child asked quietly. Sure, he had known (or at least suspected) that he was badly roughed up, but he hadn't expected to wake up on the ICU. Last time he'd been there was when he'd been shot at.

His question provoked an interesting reaction in his Osakan counterpart however. His friend's green gaze flitted to something above his head (probably a monitor for his vitals), before settling on his features again. It seemed as if Hattori didn't know how to explain it to him. After a few moments of tense silence, the tanned sleuth breathed a quiet sigh and began speaking again.

"I ain't gonna lie, Kudo. It's bad. Ya got a couple o' broken ribs, a shattered collarbone an' a dislocated shoulder. Ya also got a concussion, a pretty heavy one a' dat an' more scrapes an' bruises da doc's dared ta count. Yer lungs were bruised too, so the doc's had to intubate ya fer da first night. Dey said, ya should take it easy fer a while."

Silence reigned after the explanation Hattori had given. Sure, Conan had suspected something of the sort, but he hadn't expected it would be this bad. Combined with the little detail his friend had given him about the Sandman's capture, it must have been a close call indeed.

A memory resurfaced, of hands closing around his throat, of the darkness that had claimed his mind, of the feeling of not being able to breathe. Taking a few deep breaths (or as deeply as was possible without straining his aching ribcage), Conan banished the memory away.

It was over, he was alive and the culprit was in custody. Okay, so he hadn't escaped unharmed, but it was nothing that wouldn't resolve itself in the coming weeks. Glancing at his friend though, Conan could see that while he could compartmentalize this, Hattori could not. At least not right now.

His friend was at least two shades paler (and with Hattori's naturally tan skin, that was saying something) and he looked like he hadn't slept a moment since he'd taken up his seat there.

Speaking of...

"How long have you been here?" Conan asked, knowing how irregular it was for Hattori to sit still for longer periods of time, especially in a hospital.

"A while. I think it was las' night sometime. Took up Neechan's place 'ere. Da girl worried 'erself sick, ya know? Took me, Kazuha an' 'er father ta get 'er home. Was some work though, I gotta tell ya. She only went home 'cause I promised ta call her in exactly five hours." Hattori answered, throwing a faint grin his way.

Conan knew his friend long enough to know that a grin like that heralded trouble.

"And how long ago was that?" he asked, mirroring the grin his friend showed.

Checking his watch, Hattori gave an obviously fake hiss, before grinning at him again.

"'Bout twelve hours ago."

Conan huffed a short chuckle, ignoring the pain that shot through his middle as he did so.

"You're a dead man when she wakes up, you know that, right?" he cautioned, knowing full well that Ran hated it when someone looked after her health. She was overly convinced that she was the caretaker for everyone around, so when the roles were reversed, she was out of her element and usually responded with annoyance. And Hattori didn't have the benefit of being able to pull the puppy-look on her.

"Meh, I'd say it's worth it." Hattori shrugged easily, leaning against the back of the chair, looking much more calm now compared to when Conan had woken.

Apparently the guy had been worried about some of the damage being permanent or whatever went through Hattori's obscure brain.

With the shrunken detective awake again and with his brain in fully functioning order, it was just a matter of taking enough time for his injuries to heal.

However long that would take.

Well, the final chapter will be released sometime this weekened, I just need to read through it one final time and convince myself that it's good enough to be published^^ Don't get me wrong, I love my Epilogue (and I hate it, but I'll tell you about that in the next AN), so it's really only a matter of adjusting some minor details^^

Anyway, hurray for my two favourite tantei's *gg* The final exchange was something I'd heard somewhere I think (I'm not sure anymore^^) and I thought it would totally fit on something Heiji would do... you know, not calling Ran to make sure she got at least some form of rest (if only to avoid the Conan Patended Glare of Death^^)

See ya next chappie!