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Chapter 4
Conan blinked up at the white ceiling for the second time in as many hours, surprised at both how much better he felt (aside from feeling a bit hazy, which was probably whatever they'd given him) and how much quieter it was than when he'd dozed off. The Mouris weren't there, then, or at least not in the room.
The lack of beeping machines indicated a continuing relative health, as hospitals tended to like hooking up various monitors whenever there was even the faintest chance of serious trouble. The IV was expected, if irritating, and had been there the first time. Still, there was the usual low-grade hospital noise from the other side of the (closed) door, which at least meant he hadn't been kidnapped and placed in a similar location.
The fact that the thought even crossed his mind really said something about the state of his mental health and stress-levels, Conan thought wryly, but something else was bothering him a bit more. "You still here?" he asked the room.
Invisible fingers ruffled his hair (which fell back into place almost immediately afterwards in defiance of a lack of order) and his 'Conan' phone was pressed into his hand, appearing in the visible world with a startling suddenness as the greater pressure eased into the light press of the cell-phone's weight, a new message blinking up at him.
The light was glaring and he winced against the sting, squinting against the brightness as his pupils failed to adjust at their normal speed.
Right. Migraine. That was why he was in the hospital. The message was probably important, though, so he waited until he could make out the kanji on the screen despite the discomfort, and felt a well of relieved affection at the words. 'Not leaving you.'
But what about... "You... basically told Ran and her dad, right?"
A pause, then his phone buzzed briefly. Conan squinted down at the incoming message—confirmation of his suspicion—and rubbed his forehead. "How did they take it?"
'Better than I expected' was encouraging, but vague.
"... should I ask?"
'Well, I don't think they'll go calling an exorcist. I called you family.'
That might be the only thing to get Ran to curb her fear enough to listen and it was... "True enough," Conan murmured, "but I don't have... background. I could probably... tell them something, give them enough to believe me and just let them... draw their own conclusions, I guess."
Fingers squeezed his shoulder gently, supportive. Kaito knew what it was like to lie to people you cared about, too, after all. The only written message was simple and somehow conveyed that understanding better than any declaration could have. 'I'll listen.'
Conan nodded. He hated twisting the truth like that (propagating lies without actually speaking them was no different than lying outright, as far as he was concerned), but there were times (too many times in his life these days) where it was necessary. If there was to be even a degree of safety in his life, the lie was his only way to shield them. High-profile 'targets' did actually get assessed for threat-level before the Org took them out, after all.
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Two hours later, he was 'home'. The Mouris, that is, Conan's home (not Shinichi's. Never Shinichi's) and Ran kept glancing around nervously.
Conan sighed and gloved fingers brushed against his arm, assuring of Kaito's presence. Tension he hadn't noticed building eased out of his shoulders, and why was he so anxious for that presence? Why was the thought of Kaito not being there so unnerving?
"Conan-kun?" Ran asked after the silence had dragged on a few minutes, causing the boy to start a bit.
He hesitated on glancing at her expression. "... Hai?"
She swallowed and glanced round the room, "Do you know who...?"
Conan closed his eyes, "Nii-san." He didn't have to fake the pain in tone and expression. Whatever had happened, whatever had been done—Conan didn't even know where to start, but the whole thing was wrong. Kaito's presence should have been announced with fanfare and white come evening and ridiculous declarations and colorful smoke during the days. It was part of who Kaito was. This silent, invisible specter was equal parts unnerving and heartbreaking.
And the 'Nii-san' was true enough. Kaito was a year older than him, and their respective fathers were each other's godfathers, according to Jii-san and Kudo Yukiko. If Toichi had lived, they would likely have been raised more-or-less alongside each other, like close cousins.
Ran blinked, going a little pale as she frowned shakily. "I didn't know you had a brother," she half-asked.
Conan looked aside, considering how to word this. "Conan... it's not my name. Not really."
Ran's gaze sharpened. She'd suspected him of being Shinichi before, but she knew Shinichi didn't have a brother, so obviously her mind was trying very hard to come up with something for that. Her father pushed himself upright at the desk, no longer feigning disinterest. "What?" he demanded, voice low and hard.
Ah. The lie could hurt Ran, and Kogoro took threats to his family seriously. A serious Mouri Kogoro was like an entirely different person, neither idiotic nor rash. (The man actually had the makings of a good detective, if he'd just stop being lazy and use the brainpower he obviously had for something other than gambling.)
"I've used it enough that it's... easy to answer to," Conan stated haltingly, "My family... brother was always the best at finding things out. Keeping us ahead of Them. But... they were... it wasn't safe for me to stay with Kaa-san and Tou-san anymore. Agasa-hakase knows a little, and the Kudos have helped before—we really are related." Conan shrugged, "They made the new paperwork for 'Edogawa' Conan."
The angry suspicion faded and Kogoro sat back, frowning. "That's why they never visit. Why it's always just an untraceable wire transfer."
Conan nodded, shoulders slumped. "I can't tell you my real name," he admitted, "... or even if I've ever used it. It's easy to answer to Conan, though, so it's my name, now." All true, but highly misleading.
Ran was starting to look a bit teary, "Do you know your real name?"
Conan looked down, grimacing at the question.
"... oh," Ran said, suddenly a lot quieter.
Conan glanced up again, "I'm smart, though," he informed, "and I'm not always good at hiding it. I try, because I've seen some of Them in Tokyo, sometimes. I know they're still looking for—but they didn't pay attention to me as a person. Just—as long as they think they killed me, I'm safe. But if I was with Kaa-san and Tou-san, they would realize that their poison didn't work the way they wanted it to. But they still like to get the smart kids. If they get them young enough, it's easy to make them loyal. There's a lot of Them. They don't get caught... and they don't like that my family was trying to get evidence."
Another gentle brush of fingers reminded him of his purpose with the conversation and Conan closed his eyes again, quietly pained. "I don't know what happened. I never thought anyone could catch Nii-san. He can't... tell me. He tried, but something stopped him, and he's... worried."
Ran was definitely tearing up. "Oh, but... what's his name?"
Conan winced, closing his eyes for a moment. "I called him Kai*, sometimes," his voice hitched, not really faked. "Nothing could hold him."
Fingers ruffled through his hair, a cross between supportive and approving.
Ran flinched.
Panic welled up, hot and cloying, as his head pounded with his heartbeat. "I know you hate—please, I'll go; I'll find somewhere else, just—don't take him away!"
Kaito's arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against a chest that was teen-narrow but still felt so broad to Conan's child-frame, a tight hold that eased back terror.
Conan didn't—quite—frown as he got a hold of himself, the fear dimming to uneasy confusion. Why was he so emotional? He wasn't a child, no matter what he looked like, and even post-migraine exhaustion could only account for so much. Although... if they'd given him some kind of opioid*... Well, he didn't usually react well to those and even after they'd officially worn off, they left him off-balance for days afterwards.
Add in the genuine fear of losing Kaito for good, and... yeah. Okay. Maybe. But that meant dealing with panic attacks for at least three days and panic attacks plus kiddie school promised to be a nightmare.
Kaito's fingers were carding through his hair again, the grip easing a little, and when Conan glanced up, Ran looked much closer to heartbroken than terrified.
Either way, though, living at the Agency with Kaito would be... hard.
Conan closed his eyes, indulging in a moment of weakness and leaning back into Kaito's invisible hold. With his eyes closed, he could almost pretend that Kaito was fine, that this was just the aftermath of another joint effort to take down some dangerous criminal group. That they were both fine.
Almost.
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*Intended as a bit of a pun as well as a cover for any time 'Conan' starts to address his 'nii-san' as 'Kaito' and remembers not to halfway through. Taken from 'Kaito', 'Kaitou', and 'kaihou suru' which means to free, as in liberate or release. (There are several other meanings, as well, but the kanji is different and they aren't relevant to the story.)
*Opioids and narcotics are pretty much the same thing.
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