Chapter 14: A Grin Without a Cat

Author's note: You can absolutely get sick from overworking your brain. Symptoms can be mild or flu-like (including, but not limited to: fever, nausea, headache, chills, etc.). To those of you still in school or college, please be careful and remember to take breaks and drink plenty of water.

It took a while for Shinichi to explain to Subaru what he needed. He didn't want too many people in on this, but since the man already knew who Ran was, he decided to press his luck. If he could utilize the FBI to find out what he wanted to know, it would ensure unnecessary persons wouldn't get involved. In theory, at least.

"I just need to ascertain how widespread this is," he'd said when the agent gave him a hard, perplexed look. "If this is happening outside of Japan, we'll need a lot more help than just two detectives and a scientist to figure out how to fix it."

Subaru was slow to agree, but after seeing Shinichi's notes, he decided it would be worth at least looking into. He couldn't promise accurate results, since America was many, many times larger than Japan, and people went missing all the time, but he could find out discretely (as per Shinichi's request).

He also couldn't promise to do anything about it, whatever the result ended up being, since he was technically on a different job, but he at least acquiesced to help when he could. Shinichi couldn't have asked for more if he'd wanted—it was more than enough for now.

With that taken care of, Shinichi went upstairs to his room feeling like a weight had been lifted. Subaru—or rather, Akai—was even less trusting than Haibara was, so he definitely wouldn't give out too many details to others, even his own people. He'd tell them just enough to get the right information, and since he was pretty highly respected, they wouldn't ask too many questions. It wasn't a perfect plan, but at least this way, his father wouldn't find out what was up.

Once in his room, he looked towards his backpack and sighed. He thought this every week, but he really didn't want to go to elementary school. Especially now, since it wasn't just him with an issue anymore. Going to school took away from time that could potentially be used to research and look for clues.

It's gonna be a long week, he thought wearily as he carelessly stuffed what he needed for Monday into the bag. Even if he forgot to bring something, he was more than smart enough to get by for a day or two. Or even the whole week, but he knew from experience that Kobayashi-sensei wouldn't excuse him not having the right books for that many days in a row.

And then there were the children. He pinched the bridge of his nose. They were going to demand to know what "Shinichi" thought of their reports, followed by asking him what he wanted them to do next. He could do the former easily enough—he was Shinichi, and the reports were helpful—but for the latter…. He couldn't in good conscience involve them anymore, and no matter what excuse he gave, they would be disappointed, which wouldn't be an issue if he knew they weren't going to be vocal about it. Guaranteed, the whole school would hear about it by the end of the day.

Haibara would be there to help diffuse the situation, he reminded himself. For some reason he couldn't fathom, they usually listened to her. He squeezed his eyes shut and clicked his tongue. He was too tired to think about this. He'd face whatever tomorrow threw at him the same way he always did: one step at a time.

The next day was just as he'd expected; the moment the children arrived at the professor's house, they bombarded Shinichi with questions and demanded to know what they would do next.

"Ah, well he said you did great work yesterday—you were very helpful," he said, and the children preened. "As for what's next… He didn't say anything, so I guess we're done for now?" He tried to sound unsure, so that they wouldn't be too upset. Their grins immediately dropped.

"Conan-kun," said Mitsuhiko, eyes narrowed, "you're not lying just so you can get all the fun for yourself, are you?" The other two frowned at him, immediately latching onto Mitsuhiko's accusation. Shinichi scowled.

"Of course not!" he said, just barely keeping his voice level. He was going to follow up with the fact that it wasn't "fun," but serious detective work, but stopped himself. They would probably take it to mean they were right about him lying, so he held his tongue.

"Really?" asked Mitsuhiko, a dissatisfied frown on his face. Haibara cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention away from Shinichi.

"I'm sure if that guy has any more work he needs your help with, you'll be the first to know" she said as she pulled her backpack on. "But guaranteed, if you keep accusing Edogawa-kun of keeping things to himself, he won't want to include you if his niichan does need your help again."

The children wilted at her words, and gave Shinichi reluctant apologies. Genta and Mitsuhiko still looked at him suspiciously, but Ayumi was quick to move them along towards the door, telling them that she knew Conan-kun wouldn't hide it from them if someone else requested help from all of them.

"Think about positive things," she said in a bright voice as they all headed out the door. "Like, maybe we'll have a request after school." This put them all in a better mood, their ire at Shinichi forgotten. He sighed as he trudged after them.

"You know they wouldn't have that opinion of you if you didn't constantly trick them so you could do things yourself," said Haibara quietly as she fell into step beside him.

"I only do it to try and keep them out of trouble," he complained, mussing his hair. "They don't seem to care that they could be seriously hurt, or worse."

"That's because they're children," she said simply. "From what little I've heard about your childhood, you were just as reckless. You still are, actually."

"Yeah, yeah." The rest of the walk to school was quiet, or as quiet as it could be with three energetic seven-year-olds chattering away about this or that.

School was much the same as it always was, so Shinichi didn't have any trouble tuning everything out in favor of puzzling out "Ran's Case," as he'd taken to think of it as. He hadn't brought his notes or the kids' reports—the children were too perceptive to not notice their own handiwork. So, he went through everything in his head repeatedly, while absently doing the worksheets assigned that day.

As the school day came to a close, Shinichi came to one bitter conclusion: as long as Ran couldn't remember anything about the place she'd been held, they probably wouldn't get any real answers or insight into what had been done.

His dissatisfaction must have shown on his face, since Ayumi asked him if he was feeling sick.

"Just a little," he admitted, though it wasn't the kind of ill she was thinking about.

"I eat eel soup when I'm sick," said Genta authoritatively. Mitsuhiko snorted.

"You'd eat that even if you weren't sick," he scoffed. Genta grinned.

"So? Good food makes everything better."

"If you don't feel good, maybe you should go home and rest," said Ayumi, brows creased with worry. "Otherwise, it might turn serious."

"EEEH?! But we were gonna play soccer today!" groused Mitsuhiko.

"We can still play soccer," said Haibara. "It might even be more fun since Edogawa-kun won't be there to win no matter what we try."

"Yeah," said Genta, thumping Mitsuhiko on the back. "Last time it was four-to-one, and he still beat us, remember?" The freckled boy scowled at the memory and nodded vigorously. Haibara hid a smirk.

"It's settled then." Edogawa-kun will go home and rest, while the four of us engage in a nice, fun, fair game of soccer."

"But—" started Ayumi, clearly upset that Shinichi would essentially be "left out," even if she was the first one to suggest he go home.

"Think of it this way," said Haibara as she gently steered Ayumi away from Shinichi. "We're training to go up against Edogawa-kun. Maybe we'll even beat him next time."

Fat chance of that, thought Shinichi as he suppressed a smirk. But playing without me for a change may be good for their self-esteems.

Ayumi shot him an apologetic glance before ultimately agreeing with Haibara. The other two boys bid him goodbye while wearing conspiratorial grins. Haibara didn't even spare him a glance. He was probably going to break bank just to thank her for all the times she'd covered for him recently.

He watched them go before setting off for home himself, content in the knowledge that Haibara would keep them out of trouble.

As he walked, he tried to think of ways to get Ran to remember anything about those two missing weeks. He didn't want to force it, but since she was the only one who even knew she was someone else before, she was the best bet on getting any information at all.

They could try hypnosis, but that sort of thing never worked on Shinichi, and even as trusting as Ran was, it never worked on her before her disappearance, either. He frowned up at the blue sky.

Well, it's at least worth looking into—that's the easiest way I can think of… His frown deepened. But if it works and she reacts the same way she did in the alley, it might not be worth it.

He sighed again. He wasn't a psychologist, so he'd have to do a little more research to see if there was another way to retrieve those memories.

He worried about the subject so much that by the time he got home, he really did feel sick.

His head burned as he shucked off his shoes. There were too many things to think about, too many questions without answers, and too many things he wasn't capable of doing. He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temples, took in a deep breath to compose himself, and headed for the stairs so he could drop his kiddie backpack in his room.

As he shrugged off his backpack, he felt a faint, yet familiar prickle of eyes being trained on him. He frowned and glanced at the doorway, expecting to see either Ran or Subaru—or maybe even Agasa—but was met with an empty hallway. Eyes narrowing, he turned to the window and quickly strode over, ripping the curtains open.

The only thing he accomplished was startling a bird off of the windowsill.

He stared intently out the window, scanning every inch of space he could see, but the feeling was already gone. Then he remembered the bird, and tried to find it, but it was gone as well.

I can't be that high-strung, right? he thought with a small chuckle. To be jumpy at a curious bird… He hadn't' even seen what kind of bird it was, but since he'd gotten a face full of gray-brown feathers, it was probably just one of the many common birds in the area. He shook his head and closed the curtains again.

A small break from thinking might do him some good. He rubbed at his temples again as he made his way back downstairs. He found himself automatically heading for the living room, where he stopped and glanced at the wall clock. A new Detective Samonji episode would be airing soon, and he found himself longing for the simplicity televised mysteries often brought.

Just for a bit, he vowed to himself. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty that he wasn't going over the reports again. Worse still, he knew Ran wouldn't mind—she'd even encourage him to take a break, and somehow that just made him feel even more guilty.

It was that thought that changed his mind. He gave a wistful look towards the television before going back to the library. He reasoned that since he had a small headache anyway, it was better not to look at the LED screen. And as he sat down and began rifling through his notes, his guilt dissipated, solidifying in his mind that this was the right decision.

His headache got worse as he poured over his notes for the hundredth time, desperately searching for something, anything, that would help make sense of everything. By the time Ran dragged him to the dining room, it had become a full-blown migraine.

Dinner was leftover stew. Just like Ran's other cooking ventures, it was just as good the day after as it was before. Subaru wasn't there, but that was hardly surprising: that guy came and went as he pleased.

"Shinichi?" Ran's voice was quiet.

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright? You look a little pale…"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, waving her off. "Just a little headache." He sipped his water. "Nothing hydration can't fix." If it persisted, he could always take some pain killers, but he didn't think it would come to that.

Despite his reassurances, Ran still made sure he drank all the water in his glass.

xXx

Shinichi groaned, squinting against the painful light streaming through the window. His head throbbed as he tried to sit up, blankets falling into his lap. He didn't remember going to sleep last night. In fact, he didn't even remember going to his room. There was movement beside him, the quiet sound grating against his ears.

"You're up," came Ran's dangerously soft voice. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. They felt a little swollen. He frowned.

"… Ran…?" He turned to squint at the owner of the voice. Ran was seated in a chair pulled up next to the bed, giving him a stern, disapproving expression usually reserved for when her father did something stupid. "What happened?"

"You passed out at your dad's desk," she huffed.

Passed out…? He glanced at the light coming through the window. Well, that would explain a few things… He sighed.

"Sorry for worrying you," he said as he grabbed the blanket, starting to pull it off. He blinked when Ran grabbed his wrist, his brows raising high.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" He recognized that tone. She wasn't angry, but she would be if he wasn't careful.

"Going to school," he said slowly. He glanced at the clock and grimaced. "If I leave now, I can still make it before third period." Ran closed her eyes and sat back in the chair, taking in a long, drawn-out breath.

"No," she said shortly as she frowned down at him. Shinichi blinked again.

"Ran—"

"No," she said again. "You're on bed rest." He gaped at her.

"I need to maintain my cover."

"You are maintaining your cover." He wasn't getting anywhere like this.

"Ran, do you know how weird it is for a little kid to not go to school?" he asked as he massaged his throbbing temples. "I let you get away with it before because you didn't know about my situation, but it will look too suspicious if I don't go." Ran stared at him, a stern, contemplative look on her face. Just when he thought she'd give in, though, she retaliated.

"And this is how I know you're not well enough to go to school." He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand. "Shinichi, did you never once stop to think that a sick kid going to school looks even more suspicious than a sick kid staying home?" He snapped his mouth shut and stared down at his hands, clenching them around the blanket. Ran's expression softened.

"Look," she said gently, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, "I know you want to help me, and I'm very thankful for that, but…" She lightly squeezed his shoulder. "I don't want that help to come at the expense of your health."

"It's just a cold," he grumbled. She sighed.

"A cold that came from pushing yourself too hard," she admonished. He scowled, but before he could protest, she continued. "Ai-chan came over earlier this morning, since you didn't show up when you usually do, and you didn't answer your phon."

Shinichi's mouth clicked shut again. She didn't need to continue—he could easily guess what Haibara had to say once Ran told her what happened last night. He groaned as his head gave a particularly painful throb, and he buried his face in his hands.

Ran's hand left his shoulder, taking the warmth of its presence with it. He opened his eyes only to find her outstretched hands in front of him: one with a glass of water, one with a tablet that looked suspiciously like a painkiller. He stared for a moment, his mind slower to work than usual. When it clicked, he flushed with embarrassment as he grudgingly took the items from her.

"Try to get some more sleep, even if it's just for an hour," she said softly. He nodded as he took the medicine, chasing it down with the water. She stood up.

"I want you to promise that, unless you get some new information, you won't try to go back over my case for the rest of the week."

"But—"

"Please? It's the only way I can think of to keep you from doing this to yourself again." She searched his eyes expectantly, and any argument he had died down, shoulders sagging as he deflated.

"Fine," he grumbled as he flopped back onto the pillow. His head still hurt, so he closed his eyes. "But if I get new info before the week is up, the deal's off."

"Of course." He could almost hear her smiling. "Then, I'll let you rest." He suppressed a snort and listened to her footsteps as she headed out of the room. She paused in the doorway. He cracked an eye open—she was peering into the hall.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said slowly, a confused frown on her face. "I thought…" She shook her head. "Nothing. Just my imagination." She gave him a small smile and stepped fully out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her. If Shinichi had been in possession of all his faculties, he might have found her behavior strange. As it was, he was too tired to care much, and easily drifted off to sleep once more.

xXx

He hated to admit it, but he already felt better the next day. He was still a bit dazed, of course, but the lack of a migraine was worlds better than before.

Ran kept a close eye on Shinichi for the rest of the week, as did the Detective Boys (or rather, Ayumi kept an eye on him because she was worried about his health and the boys kept an eye on him because they thought he might make a move on Ayumi). It was heartwarming in an annoying sort of way.

Throughout the week, since he wasn't using his brain like he normally would have, he became increasingly desperate for some sort of stimulus. It was most likely due to that, that he became incredibly sensitive to a foreign stare directed at him. It only ever happened around his house, and it wasn't just him; he'd noticed Ran had been nervously looking around sometimes, as well.

Someone was watching them.

It wasn't until Friday night that the owner of the suspicious gazes revealed themselves. As Ran and Shinichi were finishing up a (rather boring, in Shinichi's opinion) movie, the power in the house went out. He looked out the window—Agasa's lights were still on, so unless the man had somehow started up his generator immediately after the outage, it was just them. An amused chuckle rode into the room on the moonlight that streamed in from the window.

"Well, well, well," came a strikingly familiar voice. "Color me surprised."