This fic is heavily inspired by Un secret de plus by Neyane. Credits for characters and situations go to Gosho Aoyama for Detective Conan, and to James Patterson for Maximum Ride! And Neyane, too!

A few notes about the reading:

Italics are direct thoughts → normal text within italics represents italicized or stressed words like in normal text.

"Dialogue" is like this

""Double quotes denotes spoken English""

Also, some language and violence WILL happen!

Chapter 1 - The Beginning of Something New

Conan awoke slowly, his vision blurry and his body sore, from the depths of a deep dark sleep. He slowly let his vision return to him, staring blankly as the images became clearer and his brain tried to process what it was seeing, while he tried his hardest to force it out of its daze. Something was shining very brightly, illuminating a row of evenly spaced, blurry, long, dark shapes. As they became clearer, his brain continued to try to shake itself free from the chains of its unconsciousness. Were those… bars?

And there it was. Something clicked in his brain, and he shot up, immediately regretting the fast and, in retrospect, not very well thought out action. He fell onto his back for a moment, letting his body catch up and processing the information he was slowly becoming more sure of as his vision and a coherent train of thought returned to him more and more. After a few moments, he sat up again, slower this time and with his hands behind him for support. Yes, it was true; he was in a cage. But… why was he in a cage?

It came back to him then, the events of the last- how long had it been?- hitting his mind like a freight train. Right. There was the girl, and the werewolves… was it? Yes, no other way to describe it. And what an experience it was, indeed. And I thought people shrinking was weird enough, he thought to himself, chuckling a little despite the humorless situation.

""What's so funny,"" a voice asked in English, sounding slightly annoyed and without the intonation of a question, and coming from a few feet to Conan's right. He looked over and saw the girl from earlier, hunched in a corner in a cage of her own that sat directly beside his.

""Ah, it's nothing much, really…,"" he replied in English, not sure if she was bilingual or not.

""Just that this is quite… quite a strange situation, to be sure."" She looked at him for a moment, a miniscule smile tugging at the corners of her lips, before sighing and looking away, hugging her knees to her chest.

""Strange... hah, that's definitely one way to put it….""

Conan then recalled the events that had surely led up to all of this, or at least, the events he was pretty sure had led up to all this, as they were the last ones to take place before he woke up here, wherever here may be. What other conclusion could he make, after all? Whatever had happened between his last string of consciousness and now that would have ended with him waking up here had to be directly related to when he last lost consciousness.

It had been a normal day for one Conan Edogawa, including the random scream and the case that surely came along with it. He had been walking back to the agency after a few games of football with the Detective Boys, and as he was really 17 years old, coupled with the fact that the agency was only a few blocks away, he was alone when it happened. Typically, this was not a dangerous thing; he had ways of defending himself, and cases were a common enough occurrence for him that he could hardly be caught by surprise. Even if he were, he could almost always find a way out of it. Hell, if he couldn't do that, he had a good many people to fall back on, who surely would find a way out for him if, for some reason, he was incapable. All of this, however, couldn't ward off the unknown darkness that was to come. He had felt uneasy all day now, as if some greater power were warning him of something, but chasing after the scream was an instinct simply irresistible to the detective inside of him, and it wasn't like he had never faced danger before. Unwisely, he had brushed the feeling away.

Turning into the (very dirty) alleyway, he came upon a… winged girl? Fighting off what appeared to be… werewolves?! No one turned to pay him any attention, too busy with the fight at hand, and he looked around for any sign of a camera or crew. Nothing. No, there must be something! This sort of thing defied the laws of nature, and would surely have made a good film, right?

But, while it seemed impossible, Conan was no fool. He had 17 years of life experience on him, despite what his physical appearance may lead one to believe, and he even had an actor for a mother; given the sounds, the lighting of the area, the obvious lack of a crew or anyone at all nearby aside from the participating "actors"... this was no scene. Even if, by some strange coincidence, it were, his fighting response was triggered, and after a few stunned seconds and a couple more after that for processing, he immediately assumed a ready position, hand on his watch and aiming at the group of seemingly werewolves.

The girl in the middle of it all was tall and lean, and had flowing, shoulder length, light brown hair. Her wings were huge, and appeared to be similar to those of a hawk's. She seemed to be pretty young despite her height, with what few clearer glimpses of her face Conan had picked up in her constant fighting within the shadows of the alleyway; even in sunny, late August weather, the Tokyo building were tall and overbearing, and the alleyways could be pretty dark in comparison to the open sidewalks. Of course, they weren't pitch black, but vision was certainly limited in comparison to what it could be, especially when what one was viewing was moving as much as the girl was. Conan placed her age around the early or mid teens, and was horrified at the implications this fight with so many… strange… adults may have had.

Speaking of adults, Conan counted eight, two of which appeared to be foreign. The girl was fast and strong, and despite there being so many werewolf… things… she appeared to be holding her own pretty well. Though, if the snapping he heard when the occasional kick landed on her torso was any indication, she could certainly do with some help. He had gotten here almost immediately after he had heard the scream, so he prayed she hadn't been fighting for too long and could hold them off for a little longer as he came to help her in these next few moments. While the fact she was fighting so well did indicate that she must have been pretty strong, her body was thin and she appeared to be pretty frail, and he hoped this was only an illusion of her figure and that her apparent strength in fighting was more indicative of her true strength, if only for the poor young girl's benefit.

He spectated for a few more seconds, recognizing as much of a pattern in the werewolves' fighting as he could, before aiming at just one wolf person, one of the foreign ones, that would certainly have their neck in that one spot for just long enough for the shot to strike its intended target….

And he fell like a stone. One down, seven to go. At the wolf man's fall, everything stopped and the alleyway was filled with an uncomfortable silence, before a few werewolves and the winged girl turned to spot him at once. Her eyes widened, in what seemed to be a mixture of fear, confusion, and panic, before she screamed at him to, ""Run away! It's dangerous!""

One of the werewolves, a woman with a long black ponytail and a smart looking outfit, broke off from the group and charged him as the rest continued fighting. Conan immediately charged up his shoes and reached for his belt, inflating a football and quickly sending it to her face, knocking her backwards and hitting her head on the ground with a light thunk, all in the span of a few seconds. Two werewolves looked over, but were quickly distracted by the girl, who had just seemed to concuss one of their brethren and knock him out before sending a few blows their way and returning their attention to her. Nice cover, he thought.

Quickly coming to terms with the fact that one of them would surely come over his way in the next few moments, he looked around the alley for another potential weapon. His eyes fell upon a dumpster that was surrounded with litter (I mean, seriously, the dumpster is right there, is it that hard to miss?!). There were various types of garbage strewn around, ranging from paper, to cardboard, to glass and glass bottles, and to empty, crumpled cans of beer and soda…. Perfect, this will do just nicely. He approached a cluster of cans and charged his shoes again, perfectly aiming two consecutive blows and missing a third when the target noticed and dodged, all the while the girl took out two more werewolves (and quite violently, he had thought to himself, but with his own methods, who was he to judge?).

This left just three werewolves left standing, two apparently Japanese and one foreigner. The fight raged on, and Conan was both surprised and impressed that the girl had thus far managed to leave no chances for any of them to come over and deal with his interference. Though all of this had happened in just a few moments, it was still something to gawk at, perhaps especially for the fact that it had only been just a few moments! But that was beside the point, and he certainly didn't have the time to gawk, whether it be physically with his face or just in his mind.

The girl was in the process of taking another werewolf out at the same time that he was in the process of preparing his next kick, when suddenly the werewolf he had knocked out with his dart moved and began speaking into something he was holding. Conan immediately redirected himself to knock the device out of their hand and then to prepare another kick to knock the bastard out for longer (maybe all this litter wasn't so bad after all, but only for this instance!), but the damage was already done. He moved to a new stash of crushed cans and was prepping yet another kick (he was getting a little weary and his feet were hurting, but he couldn't leave the girl alone now, after all), when soon came the sound of running feet behind him, a little ways down the alley. He spotted two adults running towards him, and as they approached he watched in fascinated horror as they turned from normal humans to something distinctly not human. Of course. More werewolves. Yippee.

A glance toward the girl told him that she had noticed, and as he looked her way, the sound of running steps in the other direction and his eyes confirmed three more people, two of which were foreign and had a mixture of anger and mocking in their expressions as they approached, running their way from her side of the alley and turning wolfish in the same grotesque manner he had seen the others from behind do just a millisecond prior.

And boy, were they fast, because when he whipped around to face the attackers from his side before the second had even passed, they were already upon him. He had been intending to fend them off himself as there was no one to watch his back, and if he wanted to continue to fight until the very end, even with the odds of two undistracted, adult werewolves against his childlike self, he would not put this fight to rest until he knew it was over and done with in its entirety. He had severely underestimated how much time he would get to do this, however, as they were already on him. Quickly, one snatched him up by his clothes and drew him up close to his strange, smelly, wolfish face.

"And what have we here?" the man, no, the creature drawled condescendingly at him. "What an odd road bump you are, indeed." Conan wriggled in his grasp, but to no avail. He kicked at his arm, but again it was no good. He tried peeling his fingers back simultaneously, but they were like steel and would not budge. He would not give up, however. That just wasn't the type of person he was.

"Struggle all you want, little one, but deep down, you know as well as I do that it'll do you no good." The two werewolves laughed, and he turned to look at the other, a tiny brunette woman who, despite her small frame, looked somewhat intimidating, what with her expression and her wolfish features.

"I know he's a little old, but do you think he might do to become a GP?" the wolf man holding him asked her.

"Not sure, but we could check. After all, we certainly can't just let him walk away, and with the trouble it appears he's caused, he's gotta pay back our losses somehow; I'm sure someone will approve it," she replied. She pulled out a syringe and approached the shrunken teen, still writhing in the wolf man's grip, unable to move. Seriously, is this guy a goddamn stone? he thought to himself. Knowing what must be coming and becoming desperate, he bit the man, who gasped and recoiled in pain, or shock, or perhaps both.

Dropping to the ground, Conan quickly turned around to put some distance between his two attackers, noticing that the girl had taken out the rest of the nonforeign werewolves but was struggling with the foreign ones, looking pissed off, while the werewolves' expressions seemed to indicate that they were having a twisted sort of fun with her. Almost as if they know each other, Conan deduced. The foreign werewolves seemed to be tougher, more experienced; or quite possibly, as the girl was foreign as well, they simply knew better how to handle her, perhaps already having dealt with her in the past. Must be why she looks so angry.

His thoughts were cut off suddenly as a quick, fluid motion took him from behind, coming so fast Conan almost felt his heart stop. The lady werewolf had him in her grasp and whispered into his ear, her breath hot, her voice soft and angelic, "And who said you could just run away?" The innocence she was leaking into her voice was tainted, and Conan could almost physically feel it slapping him in the face. He struggled a moment before something was plunged into his neck. The syringe she was holding, he remembered. Just as his world began to fade, he noticed the girl was caught in a chokehold from behind, and presumably had the same chemical injected into her by the other foreign werewolf, struggling for all she was worth.

"And you're a cute one too, aren't you?" the light, teasing, feminine voice sounded from behind him somewhere far, far away, but must have only been a foot at the most. "Too bad we have to do this to you, little one. Too bad…." She tsked, and a male voice that must have also been very close by but sounded a few lightyears away laughed evilly, before everything finally settled into a cold and silent darkness.

And all of that must have only lasted maybe a few minutes, at the most! Feels like some sort of fever dream, he thought, coming back from the memory. Strange awakenings after such a strange event wouldn't be too strange then, now would it?

AN: QUICK NOTE, IMPORTANT about canon, there will be differences such as Angel not being telepathic. The same goes for Detective Conan canon - it is a long, loooooong series! I do not remember everything! I will keep it as close to canon as possible, though Maximum Ride canon will be way off course.