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Chapter Text

Encountering dead bodies had become something of a weekly, if not almost a daily, occurrence in Conan Edogawa's life. After all, it was part of the territory that came with being a detective, although most of the adults in his life rarely took the apparent seven-year-old seriously (of course, he wasn't seven, but that was a story for another time). By now, Conan had become familiar enough with the job to expect to run into a broken and battered corpse whenever he went out with Ran and her father, Kororou Mouri, for what was supposed to be an innocent trip to the city. Unbeknownst to most others, he also had previous experience from encountering dead bodies on cases with his father during his childhood (his real childhood). It was part of the job, and he had long since learned to accept that. 

Still, accepting it and being fine with it were two different things, as he had learned the hard way. Although solving the case was always the top priority for any detective, that didn't mean Conan was oblivious to the anguish of the deceased victims' loved ones. While they were still on the scene of the murder, he pushed his own feelings aside and focused on finding the culprit, uncovering the truth behind every single case. He had become something of an expert at never letting anyone see how much seeing the grief over the death of someone he couldn't save over and over rattled him. 

At night, however, when the case was over and he was alone with his thoughts, there was no escaping the dark memories swirling in the back of his mind. The faces of the dead victims filled his dreams, their expressions always somehow twisted into a look of condemnation as the animalistic screams of their family members echoed like the worst symphony in the world. More often than not, it was only a few hours at most before Conan woke up in a cold sweat, panting as softly as he could so as not to wake anyone else, the anguished wails still echoing in his head. 

Logically speaking, he knew there was no reason he should see their faces at all, as most of them had been long dead before he even discovered their bodies. On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular logic to nightmares at all. 

Once, there had been a time when he was naive enough to try to go back to sleep after waking from one of his nightmares. Now, however, experience had taught him that it would be futile to try to get any rest. Even if he was fortunate enough to slip away from the waking world, it was never long before the horrors crept to the surface of his dreams again. 

Of course, most seven-year-old children, when they woke from a nightmare, would run to their parents for comfort. But Conan wasn’t like most seven-year-old children; he wasn’t even a seven-year-old child at all. He was seventeen, much too old to be running to anyone over something as ridiculous as a few bad dreams. Even if most of the time, he had to pretend that he was just another first-year student who just happened to be exceptionally smart, that was one area he absolutely refused to let his unfortunate situation rule his life. It was already demoralizing enough to be a teenager trapped in the body of a child; the more he could act his true age, the better. Besides, even if he had truly been a child, Kogorou Mouri wasn't exactly the type of person someone would talk to after a nightmare. Professor Agasa was better at dealing with children, but he had enough on his plate with his inventions without Conan troubling him over something so trivial. Ran would understand, but again, he wanted to avoid being treated like a child as much as possible. 

So Conan slipped into a routine of sleeping for two to three hours, waking from a nightmare-induced slumber, and waiting for what felt like an eternity for the sun to rise. At first, he passed the time by lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, however, it reached the point where if he lay there long enough, the hate-filled faces began to plague his waking hours as well. His next tactic was pacing around his room, which usually worked to stop the visions, but it also resulted in him accidentally waking Ran on more than one occasion. She was a rather light sleeper, most likely because her father tended to oversleep after getting drunk. 

It worked out, if only because he forced it to. Still, he couldn't lie. Sometimes, it was hard not to wish that something would happen to make everything end. 

If someone had asked Conan what he meant by everything, he didn't think he would be able to say. 

Of course, even the rather irresponsible Kogorou could hardly fail to notice the toll his almost-sleepless nights were taking on him. However, Conan was nothing if not an expert at coming up with a quick fib. He was fine, but he had stayed up too late watching television. He ate something that made it hard to fall asleep. He heard that his favorite manga author was coming out with a new series, and he was just too excited to sleep. He was up all night reading Sherlock Holmes. He woke up extra early because he forgot to finish his homework. The list of excuses was endless, and everyone bought his lie hook, line, and sinker without fail. 

Conan just hoped that he wouldn't have to try to pull something like that off in front of those two. 

Most of the time, he was grateful for Amuro and Shuuichi's keen observation skills and sharp deductive reasoning. There was almost nothing that ever got past the two men, making them valuable allies when chasing down a serial killer together. But this was one case he could not afford to let them near. Conan had no doubt that they would see through his lies instantly, and he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let them see the truth, not this time. 

Then one day, Kogorou was injured while out on a case. 

Fortunately, the injury wasn't anywhere close to being fatal, and the doctors assured everyone that he would make a full recovery. On the downside, he also had to stay at the hospital for at least a week. Between visiting her father, taking care of the detective agency, and going to school, Ran wouldn't have as much time for Conan. Seeing how worried she was, Conan didn't even hesitate before offering to stay with Professor Agasa, not realizing until it was too late what he had agreed to. 

He would be staying right next door to Subaru Okiya, or, as he was known otherwise, Shuuichi Akai. 

Still, he tried to look on the bright side. He would only be there for a week, so with any luck, he would be gone before Akai had a chance to ask any uncomfortable questions. If he was really lucky, he might get away without encountering the man at all. After all, he was an undercover agent. Akai had better things to do than worry about whether a high school detective in the body of a child was getting enough sleep. Everything would be fine. 

Once again, Conan didn't know what everything meant, and this time, he didn't know what fine meant either. 

As he had expected, getting through the week without running into Akai had been too much to hope for. The man was talking to Professor Agasa when Conan walked in, presumably about a thesis he was writing (his cover was that he was a grad student, after all). Conan might have tried to slip away unnoticed while the two men were conversing, but as usual, Akai was entirely too observant. 

"Oh, Conan-kun. It's good to see you, though I wish it could be under better circumstances," Akai greeted him. 

"Ah, it's good to see you too, Shuuichi-niichan," Conan answered, quickly putting on a smile to hide the weariness he felt from not sleeping for at least a week now. Judging by the way Akai's expression dropped into a frown of concern, he hadn't done a particularly commendable job. 

"You don't look very well. Are you feeling sick?" the FBI agent asked. 

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I'm fine, it's just..." Conan trailed off, realizing he hadn't prepared an excuse for this situation. "Ah, it's just that...there was a cold going around at school this past week. I was feeling fine until this morning, but maybe I caught something..." 

A cold? Really? Is that the best excuse you could come up with? That you caught a cold? he mentally berated himself. There's no way the professor or Shuuichi-niichan bought anything you said. 

"A cold, I see," Akai hummed, his tone making it clear that he didn't believe that was the whole story at all. 

Don't ask what else is going on, don't ask what else is going on, please, just don't ask what else is going on. 

Fortunately, luck was on his side as Akai chose not to push the issue, instead continuing, "Well, in that case, I believe it would be best if you spent the week with me. Older people's immune systems aren't as strong, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to risk passing your cold to Professor Agasa here." 

Wait, what? No, that can't happen! I can't stay over with Shuuichi-niichan, Conan thought, internally panicking. Out loud, he stuttered, "But Shuuichi-niichan, I don't want to pass my cold to you either. Maybe, ah, maybe there's another place I could stay for the week...?" 

"Unless the rest of the world has somehow become aware that you're actually a seventeen-year-old in a child's body, it would be impossible for us to find you a place to stay alone," Akai pointed out in a hushed voice, and reluctantly, Conan had to admit that he was right. Giving him a reassuring smile, the FBI agent added, "Don't worry about me. I'm not that old yet, and even if I catch your cold, I'll be just fine in no time." 

Conan found that he couldn't argue with that, so he reluctantly agreed to bring his bags over to the Kudo household (his household). He was relieved, at least, that getting settled in didn't take long at all, for Akai kept looking at him as if he wanted to ask him something but refrained every single time. Once he was finished, the older detective told Conan that he would be downstairs and to call him if there was anything he needed. 

As he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he silently thanked the universe that the daylight was keeping the dark thoughts away for at least a few more hours. 

Unbeknownst to Conan, at that same moment, Akai was on the phone with a certain blond-haired cafe worker at Poirot. 

"Furuya-san, keep an eye on Conan-kun if he comes by the cafe tomorrow. There's something about him that's worrying me." 

Chapter Text

Conan Edogawa was a terrifying man. 

That was how Rei Furuya described the young detective to everyone he met. He was one of the few people in the world who could boast that they frightened the triple security agent, not that Conan would ever boast or was even aware of such a thing. Most of the time, when Rei told people this, they assumed his feelings stemmed from the fact that the seven-year-old was exceptionally bright, even brighter than some of the best public security officers the country had to offer (and certainly much brighter than Kogorou Mouri as much as Rei pretended to be in awe of the man's detective skills). To be fair, their reasoning wasn't entirely incorrect. Conan's intelligence did make him nervous; there was no reason that a first-year student should possess so much knowledge, such incredibly high deductive reasoning, and the ability to prevent catastrophes on the fly the way that little boy did. It made him grateful that Conan was on their side, for if he had worked for the Black Organization, all the NOCs would have been exposed within a day. 

Well, maybe a day was a slight overstatement, but he knew it wouldn't have been long before they were discovered and exposed. Fortunately, Conan was working against the Black Organization and had no intention of blowing their cover to anyone. 

Beyond his intelligence, however, there was another reason the boy terrified Rei as much as he did. As an undercover agent, Rei rarely allowed himself to form personal connections with anyone. That wasn't to say he was disagreeable or cold to everyone he met, of course. At the very least, when he was playing the role of Touru Amuro, part-time cafe worker and apprentice to the great Kogorou Mouri, he was personable and friendly (but more than willing to throw a punch to defend those kids Conan was always hanging around). He would even say that he got along with almost everyone. But when it came to forming genuine friendships, that was something he couldn't afford. Letting people too close meant adding to the risk that his cover would be blown, for one, and his mission always came first. On top of that, with how dangerous his position was, letting others in meant there was a greater risk that they would become collateral damage. He couldn't let that happen. Not after him. Not after Scotch. 

But once again, Conan caught him by surprise. Rei couldn't say what caused it, but over time, he found himself going out of his way more and more to keep an eye on the boy. Of course, part of it had to do with the fact that he was genuinely curious as to how such a young child could possess such extensive knowledge. However, as time went on, as he saw Conan more and more, Rei began to pick up on other aspects that were, to say the least, concerning. 

For example, there was the way that Conan encountered death almost every single week, yet somehow, none of the adults in his life seemed to consider the psychological damage this would do to a child. There was the way Rei would sometimes catch him staring off into space with an empty look in his eyes. There was the way it was painfully obvious that he hadn't been sleeping lately, although somehow, he could never get close enough to ask what was going on. Most of all, there was the way that, while Conan still smiled and laughed, he did so a little less often and a lot less readily than most children his age. Had it been anyone else, Rei wouldn't have concerned himself with the matter at all except to pass on a word to someone to get that person into therapy as soon as possible. But when Shuuichi Akai called him to tell him that he was worried about the boy and to ask if he would keep an eye on him the next time he was at Poirot, he didn't even hesitate before agreeing. The alarm that flared in his chest over that phone call was so powerful that Rei forgot to curse his sworn enemy. 

He hadn't expected that Conan Edogawa would be so important to him. 

The sound of the bell jangling as the door opened made him look up. Conan had arrived, and one look at the boy was enough to tell Rei exactly why Akai was so concerned. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was entirely too pale, and while Conan could never be described as heavy, he looked thinner than Rei remembered seeing him last. When the boy saw him, he smiled politely, but Rei couldn’t help noticing that it seemed wan and rather forced. Not necessarily out of any resentment toward him, but more over the fact that smiling at all seemed to be a struggle. 

"Good morning, Amuro-san," Conan greeted him, obviously putting a lot of effort into sounding cheerful and upbeat. 

"Good morning, Conan-kun. Did you have a late night last night? You look a bit tired today," Rei commented mildly, but he kept his eyes traveling over the boy's appearance, trying to pinpoint anything that might give him a clue as to what was going on with him. 

"Oh, it's nothing, really. I was just up late working on a...a project with Haibara-san," Conan reassured him, just a little too quickly for it to have been entirely authentic. "I asked Professor Agasa for some coffee, but he wouldn't give me any." 

"I have to agree with him on that. Caffeine never does anyone your age any good," he chuckled, to which the younger detective just grimaced. "Don't worry about it, Conan-kun. Would you like a glass of juice instead?" 

"Ah...I can't, actually," the boy answered sheepishly, feeling for something he had apparently forgotten in his pockets. "I think I left the money I was supposed to bring on my bedside table. Sorry, Amuro-san." 

That came as a surprise. In the months they had known each other, Rei had never had any reason to peg Conan as the forgetful type. Looking at the child, however, he had to admit that it made sense that something like this would happen. While Rei was used to going without sleep for extended periods of time, a child Conan's age was not. The occasional memory slip was only to be expected. 

"Don't worry about it. We all forget things sometimes," he assured the boy, brushing his thoughts aside for the moment. Hoping to keep an eye on Conan for a while longer, he added, "May I offer you a glass of water instead?"  

Conan hesitated for a moment, looking strangely reluctant for some reason, but soon nodded. "That would be fine." 

"Very well. Take a seat anywhere you'd like, and I'll bring you a glass in just a moment," Rei murmured. 

A few other customers had arrived to dine in at Poirot, but fortunately, Azusa was already seeing to them. Rei caught his coworker's eye from across the cafe, and she gave him a reassuring smile, nodding over to Conan. Although she hadn't joined in their conversation, it seemed that she, too, had picked up on the fact that something was troubling the child. Not for the first time, Rei found himself grateful for her, as he now had free reign to try to get some answers out of him. 

He brought over a glass of water to Conan's table, noting with a pang of worry that he had already fallen into his usual routine of staring off into space. The small detective was digging his nails into his arm, seemingly absentmindedly, and Rei gently placed a hand on his shoulder to snap him out of his reverie to stop him from accidentally breaking the skin. Fortunately, the gesture was enough to bring Conan back to reality, and he gave Rei that same tired smile as the water was placed down in front of him. 

"Thank you, Amuro-san," Conan said quietly. 

"It was no trouble at all. But if you'll forgive my intrusion, is there something bothering you?" he asked carefully. "You've been staring out the window for the past five minutes." 

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I'm just feeling a little tired, that's all," Conan answered quickly, laughing sheepishly. Rei had to give him credit; if he hadn't been as skilled as he was in the art of seeing through an act, he would have bought the excuse readily. 

"If you say so. Just remember, if you ever want to talk..." he trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished. 

"I've got it under control. But thank you anyway," the boy refused him, smiling politely. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of them knowing how to continue the conversation. All the while, Rei kept a close eye on Conan, ignoring the time slowly ticking by. He noted, with no small amount of concern, that he was drinking his water exceptionally slowly today. While Conan never ate or drank as quickly as most children his age, even by his standards, he was moving positively lethargically today. Already, nearly five minutes had passed, and he wasn't even a third of the way through his glass. 

Suddenly, so softly that Rei almost had to strain to hear him, Conan muttered, "Wouldn't it be nice if earplugs could block out voices in your head too?" 

"What do you mean by that, Conan-kun?" Rei asked with a frown. 

"Huh?" One look at the startled expression on Conan's face was enough to tell him that he wasn't supposed to have heard that. "Oh...it's nothing, Amuro-san. I was just thinking...eh, but it wouldn't...it's alright. I'm fine." 

"Are you sure?" he pressed him. "I meant it, you know, when I said you could talk to me whenever you want. If there's anything I can do...?" 

However, Conan just smiled tiredly and turned to look out the window again, his eyes filled with weariness that Rei didn't think had anything to do with a lack of sleep. 

Chapter Text

Over the next few months, things finally started to look up for Conan. Kogorou recovered from his injuries, which meant he was free to return to the detective agency and escape the watchful eye of Akai. While there was still a new case nearly every week, the victims were staying alive, a change the young detective welcomed readily. His sleep schedule still left a lot to be desired, and his dreams were still plagued by the faces of past murder victims and the screams of their families, but at least he hadn't added any new ones to the mix yet. 

Unfortunately, being Conan Edogawa meant that nothing in his life could stay good or peaceful for long (or at least what qualified as good and peaceful by his standards). Three months after his brief stay with Akai, they were called to solve a kidnapping case involving two seven-year-old twins, one boy, and one girl. Putting his deduction skills to work once again, Conan was able to figure out that the children's father was the one responsible, apparently out of fury over losing custody of them due to drug addiction. But while they were able to arrest the man before he hurt anyone else, they were too late to save the twins, whose bodies were found propped up against two small chairs in a playroom with a toy tea set between them like a pair of sickening mannequins. 

He didn't think the day could get much worse when their mother showed up, fighting past the officers surrounding the house to get to her children. When she saw their tiny bodies, she collapsed onto her knees, letting out a gut-wrenching wail that made even the normally stoic Amuro flinch. The woman's body shook violently as she wept, as though she physically couldn't contain the weight of her grief. 

As for Conan, he knew he wouldn't be able to get the sound of her scream or the sight of the dead children out of his mind anytime soon. 

Dimly, he was aware of Amuro placing a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him out of the house. Under different circumstances, he would have protested at being treated like a child, insisting that he was perfectly fine. Right now, however, Conan was too tired to care. The end of the case had left him feeling hollow and drained; if Amuro wanted to coddle him (or at least as close as the man ever came to coddling anyone), then so be it. 

What was the point of this? How did anything we did today make the least bit of difference? Conan asked himself over and over on the drive back to the detective agency. We found the guy who kidnapped his kids, but we were too late to save them. The bastard still got what he wanted. He made sure that if he couldn't have his kids, nobody else could either. What's the point of finding a kidnapper if we can't save the victims? 

He closed his eyes, resting his head against the window. This is all my fault, isn't it? I was too slow. If only I'd seen through everything a little sooner, Maki and Katsumi might still be alive right now. I'm supposed to be a detective, but I couldn't save two children. It's all my fault they're gone. 

"Hey, kiddo." Amuro's voice roused him from his thoughts as the cafe worker placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright there?" 

"I think so," Conan sighed, glancing over at the blond-haired man. "I'm just tired after today, that's all." 

"I understand. I wish we could have saved those children too," Amuro murmured softly, his hand still on Conan's shoulder. "Just remember that what happened wasn't your fault, alright? You did everything you could. None of us could have done any better." 

Conan just nodded and turned to look out the window again, wondering how it was that Amuro was able to read his thoughts so easily. Fortunately, the PSB officer seemed to realize that he wasn't going to continue the conversation, for he didn't try to talk to Conan again for the rest of the drive. However, he still kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, rubbing it discreetly as a form of comfort. Once again, Conan was too exhausted to complain about being treated like a child. 

If Amuro could have done something to quiet the thoughts swirling in his mind, he wouldn't have complained at all.

That night, Conan once again found himself lying awake in bed, his heart heavy as he stared up at the darkened ceiling. Unlike most nights, however, he hadn't even tried to fall asleep this time, knowing exactly what would happen if he did. He couldn't bring himself to face Maki and Katsumi in his dreams, not now. Not yet. Maybe that was selfish of him, but Conan didn't particularly care about that right now. At this point, he just wanted something to make the weariness and sorrow clawing at his heart go away, or perhaps a time machine that would allow him to change the fact that he had become a detective in the first place. 

Unable to stand the darkness any longer, Conan slowly climbed out of bed. He felt a momentary rush of confusion when his feet landed on wood instead of the carpet that covered his room in the detective agency until he remembered that he wasn't staying with the Mouris tonight. When they returned to the agency, Ran had mentioned to Amuro that Conan often had trouble sleeping after working on a case, especially ones that ended with a murder. She had asked if he could stay with Amuro for the night, hoping that a change of scenery would do some good for him. Of course, the triple agent had been only too happy to agree, and no amount of protesting from Conan that he was fine and that he didn't want to trouble Amuro could make him change his mind. 

He supposed it should have felt nice that the others cared so much, and it did. But it also made the situation that much worse because it was a constant reminder of all his failures. When Ran smiled at him, when Akai ruffled his hair, or when Amuro squeezed his shoulder and murmured, "Well done, kid," after he solved another case, all Conan could think was that he didn't deserve their affection and support. If he was actually as good as everyone said, so many people wouldn't have died on his watch. If he was competent, he could have found a way to return to his old life by now. Although most of the world still treated him like a child, there were still people out there who relied on him, and Conan couldn't shake the feeling that he was destined to let them down one day. 

Maybe everything would be better if I didn't exist, he thought to himself, barely registering the words that had just crossed his mind. 

Somehow, he made it to the bathroom without waking anyone up, which he supposed just confirmed that Amuro was a heavy sleeper, or at least a heavier sleeper than Ran. Not that he was going to complain, of course. The last thing Conan needed was to try to explain why he was awake in the middle of the night, especially since Amuro would almost definitely see through any lie he offered. As he stood in front of the mirror, he stared at his reflection, wondering when the person looking back at him had become so unrecognizable. 

Pull it together. You'll have to make everyone believe that you're feeling better tomorrow, Conan scolded himself. Come on, smile. You know how to do it. Just make your mouth turn upward at the corners. It's as easy as that. 

Yet somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force even a faux happy expression onto his face. The most he was able to accomplish was a slight upturn of one side of his mouth, but that just made him look like he was grimacing. Eventually, Conan gave up and sat down on the edge of the tub, not wanting to look at the stranger in the mirror any longer. 

I'm even more pathetic than I thought. 

In a last-ditch effort to block the self-hatred threatening to overwhelm him, Conan decided to take a look around the bathroom. It wasn't particularly fancy, just a shower with a tub, a black tile floor, a toilet, and a sink next to a wall cabinet. The simplicity of the layout didn't reveal much about Amuro's personality, or perhaps it was the other way around and it actually revealed everything about him. After all, an undercover agent couldn't afford to leave a single trace of himself behind; perhaps it made sense that his bathroom would be as unremarkable as possible. It drew less attention to him that way. 

Conan wasn't sure what made him do it, but somehow, he found himself staring at the cabinet. Logic dictated that it was likely a medicine cabinet, as most people preferred to keep their pills and first-aid kits in the bathroom. Even though he knew snooping was wrong, he pulled open the door to confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, it was filled with various pills, most of which were painkillers, a few bottles of cold medicine, and about five rolls of bandages. For several moments, Conan stared at the bottles of pills, and if someone had asked him to describe what he was feeling at that moment, he wouldn't have been able to say. 

Then he closed the door and walked back to bed. 

Chapter Text

The following morning, Conan did his best to appear as though he was feeling better after the kidnapping-turned-murder case. Despite the fact that his head was pounding from another sleepless night, the hollow feeling in his stomach, and the ever-growing heaviness in his heart, he made a special effort to be as engaging as possible. Amuro had prepared breakfast for him (even though Conan had insisted that he really didn't have to go through all that trouble for him), so in the spirit of being polite, he ate what he could even though a meal was the last thing he wanted right now no matter how good Amuro's cooking was. He even remembered to smile, although it still felt more than a little painful. 

Unfortunately, in spite of his best efforts, it was clear that the PSB officer wasn't buying his act at all. Amuro wasn't calling him out directly, but Conan could hardly miss how the man kept his eyes trained on him throughout breakfast, a concerned frown on his face. He tried to double his efforts to alleviate his worries, but when he couldn't muster up enough strength to maintain the facade, he gave up and focused on finishing his breakfast instead. 

"Are you feeling alright, Conan-kun? You've hardly touched your breakfast this morning," Amuro pointed out worriedly. 

"Huh?" Glancing down, Conan realized that he had only finished about a third of his plate even though more than ten minutes had passed. He shook his head quickly and reassured the man, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. It's just that...I guess I'm just thinking a lot this morning." 

Damn it, why did you say that? Now, he's going to assume that you're still bothered about the case! he cursed himself. 

Just as he expected, Amuro's face immediately softened in understanding. "You do look pretty tired today, kiddo. Did you get enough sleep last night?" 

I don't think I've had enough sleep for months, Conan thought, grimacing internally. Out loud, however, he replied, "I guess I could have slept a little better, but it's fine, really. That's normal for me after a case, so I'm used to it now." 

Stop talking, you idiot! You're not making anything better, he groaned to himself. 

"I see. Well, if you're still tired, why don't you take a nap?" the undercover agent offered. "I'll take you back to Mouri's detective agency once you're feeling better." 

"Oh, uh...that's generous of you, Amuro-san, but..." Conan paused for a moment, fumbling around for an excuse as to why he shouldn't (read: couldn't) stay over any longer for a nap. "But what about Cafe Poirot? Don't you have to work a shift there today? I don't want to make you late." 

"Don't worry about it, kiddo. I took the afternoon shift for today, so I have plenty of time before I have to be there," Amuro reassured him gently. "It'll be alright. I'll wake you up when it's time to go." 

Conan hesitated for a few seconds, studying the face of the blond-haired man sitting across from him without making it too obvious as to what he was doing. The part of his brain that still warned him to keep Amuro at arm's length (despite knowing that they were on the same side) wondered why he was so concerned with his welfare. They were working together to take down the Black Organization, but that didn't mean he had to offer his home as a place for Conan to rest. Not that Amuro didn't care about others, but he was the type of man who was willing to put others in danger if it meant cornering a suspect sooner. 

Then again, Conan was more than willing to throw himself into danger if it meant cornering a suspect, so he probably didn't have any room to call Amuro out on his callousness. 

But this behavior from Amuro didn't seem like the actions of a detective who was simply looking after the health of a partner (perhaps calling them partners was a stretch, but Conan couldn't think of a better word). He was being kinder and gentler than Conan had ever seen him act before with anyone. The way the man had taken care of him ever since the end of the case felt almost nurturing. 

Was it possible that Amuro cared...about him? Not about Conan Edogawa, the first-year student, and apparent genius detective, but Conan Edogawa, the seven-year-old boy living with the great Kogorou Mouri? 

If that was the case, he had to nip this in the bud as soon as possible. He couldn't let Amuro get too close to him, he just couldn't. The way things were going now if he let the man in too far, Amuro would just end up on the list of casualties. No matter what, the world needed Touru Amuro much more than they needed Conan Edogawa or even Shinichi Kudo, assuming of course that Haibara ever managed to create a permanent antidote to the APTX 4869. 

After all, wasn't that the reason for his fight against the Black Organization? The only reason he was still here was in the hopes of returning to his normal life, the life where he was Shinichi Kudo, a seventeen-year-old genius detective and the boyfriend of Ran Mouri. He wanted things to go back to how they were before, back before he had to live in this fantasy world where there were drugs that could reverse the effects of time itself. 

But then again, who was Conan to say which world was a fantasy and which one was real? This life might not have been the one he would have chosen for himself, but the bonds he had forged with the people around him as Conan Edogawa were real. No matter what, there was no changing that, and there was also no changing the fact that he would break everyone's hearts if or when he left. The fact of the matter was that Conan Edogawa and Shinichi Kudo would never be able to exist at the same time forever. 

Of course, he could always tell everyone the truth when (if) he returned to normal. What he couldn't determine, however, was whether they would believe him. Drugs that could turn an adult into a child sounded like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. Conan could barely believe what had happened himself, and he was the one who had actually experienced it. And even if they believed him, would it make things any easier? They would still mourn the loss of a child, and this time, it would be forever. 

At least Akai (among a few other people) knew the truth about who he was already. However, Amuro didn't know, and he didn't want to put him through the pain of losing him. As infuriating and confusing as he found the cafe worker at times, Conan had to profess a certain fondness for him. More to the point, although Amuro never came out and said so, he got the feeling that he had endured a fair number of losses over his life. While Conan would have happily told him the truth under different circumstances, with the PSB officer still working undercover in the Black Organization, the risk was too high. As such, unless it became safe to do so, he had to keep Amuro at a distance so the man wouldn't grieve when or if Conan Edogawa disappeared for good. 

"Thank you, Amuro-san, but I shouldn't stay away too long. Uncle Kogorou and Ran-neechan would be worried," Conan declined politely. 

Amuro studied his face for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, if you're sure. Just make sure you take a nap when I bring you home, okay?" 

"I will," he promised, having no intention of keeping it. Desperate to change the subject, he requested, "May I use your bathroom, Amuro-san?" 

"Of course, Conan-kun. I trust you remember where it is," Amuro agreed kindly. 

Obviously, Conan had no need to use the bathroom at all, but now that he had asked, he thought he might as well keep up the act. He stood up from the table, trying to ignore the way his head was still pounding and his legs were shaking unsteadily with each step. The bathroom was only a short walk away, and if he could just make it there, he could take a few moments to steady himself once he was inside and away from Amuro's prying eyes. But his body was barely supporting itself from months of not sleeping properly, he thought he might be sick, and since when had the world started spinning like that? 

Amuro's voice calling out to him in frantic worry was the last thing Conan heard before he collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.

As soon as he saw Conan collapse, Rei was on his feet in an instant, racing over to the boy's side. His heart pounding in his chest, he turned him over gently to make sure he hadn't hit his head too hard when he fell. To his relief, Conan appeared to be breathing normally, and he wasn't sporting any injuries as far as he could tell. Even so, after placing the little detective on his couch, he took an ice pack out of the freezer and gently set it on his forehead. There were a lot of bets Rei was willing to make, but the health and safety of a seven-year-old child was not one of them. 

When Conan still hadn't regained consciousness a minute later, Rei pulled out his phone and dialed 119, keeping an eye on the boy all the while just in case he took a sudden turn for the worse. A moment later, he heard a clicking sound on the other end that told him a dispatcher had picked up. 

"Fire department or ambulance?" came a female voice on the other end of the line. 

"Ambulance, please. A child passed out," he told her, placing a hand on Conan's cheek to feel for a fever. He didn't have one, thankfully. 

"Address and name, please?" 

After giving her his address and name, the operator promised Rei that help would be arriving within fifteen minutes. It was longer than he would have liked, but he tried to look on the bright side. Conan didn't appear to be dying anytime soon, so they could afford to wait a few extra minutes. 

Looking at the child, however, Rei was suddenly struck by how unwell he actually looked. His face was pale, he looked thin, and there were still those same dark circles under his eyes. Of course, he had been aware of his declining health and his obvious lack of sleep for a while, but he had kept quiet because he wasn't the boy's guardian, and as such, he didn't think it was appropriate for him to interfere with what was supposed to be Detective Mouri's role. Now, however, Rei wondered if the man was truly as neglectful as he appeared sometimes or if Conan was that good at fooling him into believing he was alright. 

He thought about calling the detective to ask if he knew about Conan's condition, but after a moment, he decided against it. At best, Mouri was utterly clueless as to how much his charge was suffering, and at worst, he was aware but lacked the knowledge or motivation to do something about it, and Rei didn't want to deal with either outcome at the moment. Ran was a better option, but she was also a busy high school student, and he didn't think it would be fair of him to put that sort of pressure on her when caring for Conan was ultimately her father's responsibility. None of the children Conan hung around with would know what to do either, and he didn't know Professor Agasa well enough to have this type of conversation with him. That left only Shuuichi Akai. 

Of course, Rei was well aware of how ironic it was for him to willingly reach out to the man he had sworn to hate for the rest of his life. But then again, he reasoned, if there was ever a good excuse to put aside their enmity, it would be for Conan. No matter what his feelings toward Akai were, Rei had to admit that the FBI agent only ever had the boy's best interests at heart. If nothing else, at least they could agree on that. 

"Hello?" came Akai's voice on the other end of the phone. 

"Akai," Rei greeted the other man curtly. 

"Ah, Amuro-san." The use of his undercover name told the PSB officer that Akai must have been out in public at that moment. "Is there something I can do for you?" 

"I'll make this brief. When Conan-kun was staying with you while Mouri-sensei recovered from his injury, was he sleeping properly?" he asked curtly. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Sleeping properly? Well..." 

"It's a yes or no question, FBI," Rei interrupted in exasperation. 

"Well, I want to say that he slept alright because everything was always quiet in his room at night," Akai began hesitantly. "However, I did notice that he seemed awfully tired. But whenever I asked him about it, he always insisted that he was fine and that he was just waking up. And he usually spent most of his time out of the house anyway, so I rarely saw him except for mornings and evenings." 

"I see," he murmured, feeling a twinge of frustration. 

"What brought this on, if I might ask?" the FBI agent inquired. 

With a sigh, Rei admitted, "Conan-kun had a rough day yesterday. I could tell he hasn't been sleeping well lately, and yesterday, there was a kidnapping case that ended with us finding two dead children. He stayed over with me last night because we thought a change of scenery might help him, but he obviously didn't sleep well last night either because he just passed out. I've called an ambulance for him and they should be here shortly." 

"He's being taken to the hospital?" Akai clarified. 

"Yes, just as a precaution. He doesn't seem to be in any immediate danger, but all the same, I'd like to get an expert to look at him," he answered. 

"Alright. Text me which hospital they're taking him to, and I'll meet you there." 

"But-" 

Before Rei could finish his protest, however, there was a beeping sound and the line went dead. He stared at his phone in disbelief for a moment, then groaned to himself. Somehow, what was supposed to have been a brief call with his sworn enemy had turned into an in-person meeting at the hospital over a sick child. 

Today was not going to be a fun day. 

Chapter Text

Getting a phone call from Rei Furuya while he was out grocery shopping was the last thing Akai expected to happen that morning. While they were technically on the same side, the PSB officer had made it abundantly clear that they would have as little to do with each other as possible. Furuya still hated him for what he believed was Akai's involvement in the death of his partner, Scotch. However, when Akai learned that Conan had been taken ill, he suddenly understood why the other man was reaching out to him. There weren't many things they agreed on, and he doubted they would ever be true friends, but they were both willing to come together for the sake of the youngest detective. 

Of course, when Akai showed up at the hospital, Furuya still made sure to greet him with the same cold look in his eyes. Despite his unfriendliness, Akai couldn't help smiling himself. At least some things hadn't changed. 

In a way, he supposed it was ironic that the reason for Furuya's bitterness wasn't even true. Akai hadn't indirectly killed Scotch; as a matter of fact, he had been trying to prevent him from dying. The true culprit, although it was utterly unknowingly, was Furuya himself. His footsteps had startled Akai and Scotch, and at the moment that his attention slipped, the exposed PSB officer had taken the opportunity to kill himself. At first, Akai pretended to have killed Scotch himself, not knowing at the time that Furuya was a NOC like them. 

Over time, and especially after learning the truth about who Rei Furuya was, his reasoning changed. He didn't want his old rival to have to live with that guilt. The man had grieved enough for his partner as it was, and while Akai didn't know when or if he would move on, he didn't need to make things worse by telling him that he had been the cause of Scotch's death. At the end of the day, telling him what had really happened wasn't going to bring Scotch back. Sometimes, the truth was better left hidden. 

Still, they could worry about that another time. For now, his concern was finding out exactly what was going on with Conan and why he was so sick. 

"Okiya-san," Furuya greeted him coolly. 

"Amuro-san," Akai replied, nodding curtly. "Let's focus on what's important here. You say that Conan has been ill lately. Do you know what caused this?" 

"Aside from this latest incident, I can't say for certain. But I can guess," the blond-haired man told him. "I imagine that Conan has been having a rough time dealing with cases lately, which is only to be expected for someone his age." 

Akai frowned slightly at that. "He stays with Detective Mouri most of the time, does he not? Hasn't he noticed anything strange about Conan-kun?" 

Furuya scoffed. "Please. I don't know how much you know about Mouri-sensei, but between you and me, while the man is an excellent detective, he should have left being a father to someone else. Even though he's supposed to be playing a parental role in Conan-kun's life, I don't recall a single time I've seen him behave like a father to him." 

That was more than a little concerning. While Akai was aware of the truth of who Conan Edogawa really was, Shinichi Kudo was, at the end of the day, only seventeen years old and thus little more than a child himself. As clever and strong as the boy was, and regardless of whether he was seven or seventeen, he still needed someone to be a parent for him. Clearly, Kogorou Mouri hadn't been doing a particularly commendable job, and with their busy schedules, Shinichi's real parents couldn't do much for him either. 

With a sinking feeling, Akai realized that explained a few other things he had noticed about Conan's behavior, namely the way the boy usually froze up or stood limply whenever someone hugged him. Of course, seeing as he wasn't actually a first-year student, he couldn't be expected to be as open to affection as other children his age. But even taking into account the fact that he was actually a teenager, he was still oddly resistant to hugs or other parental displays of affection. Or perhaps resistant wasn't the right word. It didn't seem so much that he didn't like hugs as it seemed he simply didn't know what to do when he was given one. 

"Have you tried talking to Conan-kun about why he's not sleeping?" he asked, trying to push down the feeling of dread rising in his stomach. 

"Several times. But he always comes up with an excuse," Furuya answered. "I didn't push the issue at first because it technically isn't my place. However, I think you'll agree that we can't wait for Mouri-sensei to...I don't know...take parenting classes or whatever. Conan-kun needs help now." 

"Well, I won't disagree with you on that, but how do you plan to get him to open up to us? If these past few months have taught me anything, it's that getting Conan-kun to admit he needs help isn't going to be easy," Akai warned him. 

"I don't know," Furuya sighed. "I wish I could say I had a better plan, but I just don't know." 

Before Akai could respond to that, a nurse entered the waiting room and informed them that they could visit Conan. Instantly, the two men were on their feet, and Akai almost found it humorous how perfectly in sync they were at that moment. As such, he had more important things to focus on, so he pushed aside his amusement and brought his attention back to the matter at hand. 

Conan was sitting up in his bed when they entered his room, and at once, Akai understood why Furuya was so worried about him. He hadn't seen much of the young detective over the past few months, but if he had looked poorly when he arrived at Professor Agasa's house that day, it was nothing compared to how he looked now. Even though Conan could never be described as large, now, he looked as though a gentle spring breeze would blow him away like a leaf. It was obvious that he hadn't been sleeping or eating properly, and although he made an effort to smile at Akai and Furuya, it clearly took him a considerable amount of effort. 

"Hello, Amuro-san, Subaru-no-niichan," Conan greeted them, a forced cheerful note to his voice. "What happened? How did I get in here?" 

"You passed out at my house, Conan-kun," the PSB officer reminded him gently. "Remember? You were on your way to the bathroom when you collapsed." 

The boy frowned for a moment before his eyes widened in apology. "Oh! I remember now. I'm sorry, Amuro-san, I didn't mean to cause so much trouble." 

"It's alright, kiddo, you don't have to apologize. You just got sick; it could happen to anyone," Furuya reassured him kindly. More firmly, he added, "But in the future, I want you to tell me, or tell whoever it is that you're staying with if you're not feeling well." 

"I don't want to cause any trouble..." Conan began reluctantly. 

"You wouldn't be causing any trouble," Akai spoke up calmly, although internally he was raging at whoever had let this boy believe that he would be a burden simply for getting sick. "Amuro-san is right, getting sick could happen to anyone. It's perfectly natural, and there's nothing wrong with needing to be taken care of every once in a while." 

"Uncle Kogorou always seems so annoyed whenever I ask him for anything, though," the boy pointed out dubiously. "He'd probably just get angry with me for wasting his time if I told him I wasn't feeling well." 

Then someone needs to have a talk with him and straighten him out. I don't care how great of a detective he is, he's supposed to be parenting you and that means your health should be his top priority, Akai thought to himself with a scowl. Out loud, he replied, "Then you can talk to me or Amuro-san instead. Don't worry, if we're ever not available, we'll let you know ahead of time and you can call Professor Agasa instead." 

"We care about you a lot, kid. Everyone does, even though some people have...odd ways of showing it," Furuya told the boy quietly. "We know you're a strong kid, but let us take care of you too, yeah?" 

At last, their words seemed to reach Conan, and he nodded. "Okay. I'll remember to tell someone next time." 

"That's all we ask," Akai agreed, smiling gently at the child. 

"I am sorry for worrying you, Amuro-san. I hope I didn't make you late for work," Conan apologized, glancing over at the blond-haired man. 

"Don't worry about it, I have time to get there still. Besides, I don't think Azusa-san would fault me for being late over something like this," the PSB officer reassured him. 

Fortunately, the conversation turned to lighter topics after that discussion. The unlikely trio talked and even managed to laugh together for about ten minutes until a nurse came in and informed them that they needed to limit their visiting time so Conan could recover. Both men were more than a little hesitant, not wanting to leave Conan's side, but they recognized the truth in her words. Besides, Furuya still had his shift at Cafe Poirot to get to, and Akai had to finish grocery shopping for the week. After promising the boy that he would send Professor Agasa to pick him up when he was released, he ruffled Conan's hair and followed Furuya out of the hospital room. 

"Well, I would say that was a good start," Akai remarked with a smile, trying to push down the nervousness he could still feel in his stomach. "I should go now, but let me know if Conan-kun's behavior doesn't improve or gets worse." 

"Akai." 

His name was spoken so softly that, for a moment, he wondered if he had imagined it. When he turned around, however, he saw Furuya staring back at him, an odd expression in his eyes. It was filled with dislike, which wasn't unusual for him, but there was something else in those blue eyes too, something that Akai couldn't put a name to. 

"Yes?" he inquired curiously. "Is there something else you needed?" 

Rei Furuya seemed to struggle on the verge of speech for a moment, then shook his head and brushed past him as he walked down the corridor. 

Chapter Text

Of course, despite his conversation with Akai and Amuro at the hospital (and since when did those two decide to start getting along anyway?), Conan still had no intention of actually telling anyone if he was feeling unwell the next time it happened. The two men meant well, he knew that, and he appreciated everything they had done for him. But even though they were two of the best allies he could ask for in the fight against the Black Organization, there were some things they couldn't understand. Granted, Amuro and Akai both knew what it was like to live a double life, but neither of them seemed to have any questions about who their true selves were underneath all the masks. More to the point, they had signed up for it when they agreed to go undercover in the first place. 

But Shinichi Kudo had never asked to play the double act. All he had wanted to do was solve cases as a normal high school detective (and maybe see where things went with Ran). And while he certainly liked the Detective Boys, whenever his eyes twitched as he fought to keep them from rolling at their over-the-top enthusiasm, it was a constant reminder that he was a liar. That he would never truly be one of them. He couldn't be one of the kids because he wasn't a kid. Yet the way they talked to him, laughed with him, and included him in their games made it painfully clear that they believed he was real. Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta all believed that Conan Edogawa existed. That he had always been meant to exist. 

He knew that was a lie, he knew he wasn't who he pretended to be, and he knew things would be easier if he could stop wearing the mask of a child and return to his life as a teenager. So why did he feel so reluctant to tell them who he was now? 

Conan Edogawa and Shinichi Kudo were similar in so many ways, yet almost complete opposites in others. That was probably why Shinichi found his childlike persona to be so aggravating to play at times. They were both detectives, both preferred to be alone and yet managed to attract people wherever they went, and both were considered extremely intelligent for their age. But while Shinichi Kudo was quiet, reserved, and cynical, Conan Edogawa was mischievous, curious, and cheerful. Every time he forced a childlike laugh to come out of his mouth, he cringed internally, not just because it wasn't who he was but because he knew he could never truly be that way again. Too much had changed, especially within him, for that to be possible. 

Living with Ran and Kogorou was the best thing that could have happened to him, but it also felt like the worst at the same time. True, it was easier to protect Ran and her family from the Black Organization when he was able to stay close to them. But at the same time, it also meant that he had to witness her longing to see him again firsthand, watching as she struggled to maintain hope day after day and never being able to tell her that he had never truly left her. 

Then again, was that even true either? Technically speaking, he hadn't actually gone anywhere. But Ran didn't know that; she believed wholeheartedly that Shinichi was working on cases out of Japan and Conan Edogawa was his cousin who had been sent to stay with her family. Even though he was always at her side, it was still an abandonment all the same. He had promised Haibara that he would keep the truth of his identity a secret to protect his loved ones, especially Ran, but now, he was starting to feel that he was hurting her more than the Black Organization ever could. 

So while telling someone that he was suffering from nightmares would have been a perfectly reasonable explanation that fit with the childlike personality he had been forced to adopt, he couldn't exactly tell anyone about that without opening the door for a million other questions he didn't think he would ever be ready to answer. As such, when Professor Agasa asked him if he was feeling alright, Conan put on his best smile and assured the man that he was feeling much better. 

"I'm doing great, Professor. The doctor just said that I pushed myself a little too hard," he proclaimed cheerfully. "All I needed was a bit of rest." 

He hated how easy it was to lie, almost as if it was second nature by now (which, in many ways, it was). Conan had never believed in heaven, but if there was one, he was fairly certain that he wasn't going to get in now. Not that it really mattered in the long run. His life was already an eternal hell; what difference would it make if his afterlife was as well? 

Right now, though, all he wanted was a way to make the nightmares go away. It wouldn't do much to cure what was troubling him, but at this point, whatever he could get would have to suffice. If he was destined to be miserable for the rest of his life, he at least wanted to lessen the suffering a little. The only problem was that Conan couldn't think how he would accomplish that. 

His first thought was to ask Haibara if she could create a special medicine of some sort for him. After all, she knew more about producing drugs and medicine than anyone he knew; if there was anyone who could create something to stop him from dreaming at night, it was her. Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, however, he pushed it away. Haibara wasn't the type of person to offer favors for no reason, and he didn't feel like explaining why he was asking for drugs that didn't have anything to do with reversing the effects of the APTX 4869. Not that Conan thought she would judge him, but if he told her, it just opened up the door for everyone else to find out as well. 

The next option would be to ask for anxiety medication. While Shinichi had never been diagnosed with any form of anxiety or depression, he knew that mental health medications sometimes helped soothe people's nightmares. But getting that type of medication would require a prescription, and unfortunately, a seven-year-old would never be allowed to get any sort of diagnosis without a guardian present. Of course, there was always the option to temporarily turn back into Shinichi Kudo, but once again, that would require talking to Haibara in order to get access to the antidote. 

Over-the-counter sleeping medications were another alternative. He wouldn't need a diagnosis for them, and products such as melatonin were common enough that nobody would bat an eye if they caught him using them. Unfortunately, while they might help him fall asleep, he very much doubted whether they would help with his nightmares. Falling asleep wouldn't matter in the long run if he couldn't stay asleep. 

Conan sighed in frustration and was about to toss his phone aside when another idea crossed his mind. 

Maybe there is a way for me to get a prescription without asking Haibara for an antidote...

He couldn't go to the doctor's office or a psychiatrist directly and ask for a mental health evaluation, but online diagnoses were still just as valid. It would be easy enough to fill out the forms, and once that was taken care of, all he needed to do was get ahold of the medicine without anyone else finding out about it. Fortunately, it would be easy enough to accomplish that as long as he made sure to have it shipped to the detective agency. Kogorou wouldn't care enough to interrogate him about anything he received in the mail, and as long as he scheduled the delivery for a day he knew Ran would be out with her friends, he could sneak it in without her finding out about it. And as long as he removed the label, if anyone happened to catch him taking any pills, he could just claim that it was aspirin for a headache. 

It would require even more lying, true, but then again, he had done that every single day since that fateful night at the amusement park. What were a few more to add to the list? 

With his new plan in mind, Conan picked up his phone again and began searching for online psychiatric evaluation forms. Fortunately, it didn't take him long to find one, and within forty minutes, he had completed the evaluation and sent in the request for a diagnosis. The form hadn't been particularly extensive, but he took his time on each question to make sure that his answers were enough to warrant a diagnosis, which meant that he had to exaggerate just a little in some areas.

No, he technically hadn't seriously considered harming himself, but the thought of doing so didn't exactly repulse him either, so he felt he wasn't entirely wrong in answering yes to that question. No, he didn't feel hopeless or depressed every single day, but it happened enough that he couldn't remember the last time he had been genuinely happy. No, he didn't feel as if his life had lost meaning, but what meaning it did have left him feeling more despondent than hopeful about his future. 

So maybe he wasn't being one hundred percent truthful, but he also wasn't being one hundred percent dishonest. It was a gray lie, which he supposed wasn't entirely right, but it wasn't as if he was hurting anyone. If anything, this was only going to benefit everyone else. The medication (assuming that he was given a diagnosis and a prescription) would help him get his life settled, and that way, he wouldn't be causing trouble for everyone else anymore. Surely, if it was for the good of the people around him, a few stretched truths were the right move. 

Turning off his phone, he turned on the television and began scrolling through different programs, finally feeling as if his life was about to take a turn for the better. 

Chapter Text

Fortunately, it only took a couple of weeks for Conan's anti-anxiety medicine to arrive. Just as he had planned, the package showed up in the Mouris' mailbox on a Friday evening, just after Kogorou had gone out for a drink but a few minutes before Ran was scheduled to come home. Normally, the so-called "sleeping detective" would have waited until Ran was back before leaving for the bar, but Conan, not wanting to take the risk of his foster uncle discovering the package, had insisted that he could leave early and that he would be fine on his own for a little while. Luckily for him, Kogorou was so eager to go out and down a few bottles of beer that he didn't even question why Conan wanted him out of the agency. 

Once he had safely acquired his package, Conan brought it into his room and tore it open, stashing the remnants of the box in his backpack until he could find a better place to hide them later. He was pleased to discover that there were several bottles of benzodiazepines included in the box, assuring him that he wouldn't have to worry about asking for a refill anytime soon. Picking up one of the bottles, Conan felt an odd sense of calmness wash over him as he looked at the capsule. 

This is the right thing to do, a voice seemed to be whispering to him. You're taking matters into your own hands, and everyone else will be better off for it. 

The logical part of Conan's mind knew that turning to drugs to calm his nightmares probably wasn't the smartest move in the world. But in his defense, he had tried everything else. He had spent months searching for a cure, desperate for some relief, any relief, to the stress and self-hatred plaguing his waking and sleeping hours, and nothing had worked. Instead of getting better, things had only gotten worse until he collapsed in front of Amuro. Something like that could not be allowed to happen again. Besides, taking a few oxazepam pills every now and then wasn't a problem. It would only be a problem if he took too many of them, and Conan knew better than to let things go that far. He would just take one or two pills a night to make it easier to sleep, nothing more than that. 

Peeling off the labels and stuffing them into his backpack was easy enough as well. The only real problem came when Conan had to find a place to store his pills. He had a dresser, true, but he didn't like the idea of leaving them in there on the chance that Ran or Kogorou happened to look through his drawers one day. Not that he really thought that was a likely possibility, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Of course, storing them in his backpack was another option, but he was already using it as a temporary trash bin and he didn't think he should risk hiding anything else in there for now. 

He almost felt guilty, lying to Ran and Kogorou (and to Amuro, Akai, and everyone else in his life) the way he was. But, he reminded himself, it was for everyone else's benefit. Besides, what they didn't know couldn't hurt them. 

There's got to be somewhere I can leave them, he thought in frustration, scanning his room for somewhere, anywhere, to hide the benzos. Somewhere that Ran and Kogorou-no-ojisan wouldn't have any reason to check. 

Almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes fell on his suitcase, stored away near the back of his closet. That would be an ideal spot. It was big enough to hide all of the bottles, and more to the point, Ran and Kogorou had no reason to search through or touch his suitcase. It wasn't as if they were planning on going on vacation anytime soon. Quickly, Conan stuffed the pills inside his suitcase and headed out of his room just in time to hear the door to the agency opening. 

"Conan-kun, I'm home," Ran called out. 

"Welcome back, Ran-neechan," Conan greeted his "older sister" cheerfully, then paused when he saw that she hadn't come alone. "Oh, Amuro-san, what are you doing here?" 

"I'm sorry, Conan-kun, but Sonoko came down with a cold, so I have to take some medicine over to her," Ran apologized, and it was then that Conan noticed the small brown paper bag in her hand. "But I ran into Amuro-san on the way up, and he offered to watch you until Dad and I get back." 

Really? He's going to spend the evening watching me? Doesn't he have anything better to do, being a public security officer and all that? the small detective grimaced to himself. Out loud, however, he put a childlike smile on his face and replied in a perfectly chipper voice, "Oh, well, that's nice but it's not necessary. I can be on my own for a bit. I'm sure you've got more important things to do, Amuro-san..." 

"Not at all. I'm free for the rest of the evening," Amuro assured him, giving him his trademark easygoing smile. "Besides, it's not a good idea to leave children on their own. I don't mind doing Ran-san this one favor." 

Conan forced himself to smile and nod even as the corners of his mouth began to ache. He liked Amuro, he really did, but he would rather the man be anywhere else in the world at that moment. No matter what he said about his decision to babysit him being a favor to Ran in a time of need, Conan could see right through him. Ever since his trip to the hospital, Amuro (and Akai as well) had gone out of his way to check up on Conan nearly every chance he got. Even though he constantly told Amuro and Akai that he was fine and that he was doing much better, it hadn't stopped them from cornering him for a chat over coffee or curry several times over the past two weeks. It was obvious that neither of them believed a word he told them, not that he could blame them. While Conan liked to think he had inherited at least some of his mother's acting skills (he would have had to, after all, seeing as he was a seventeen-year-old pretending to be a seven-year-old), those two weren't law enforcement agents for nothing. 

Still, he reasoned, maybe he didn't have anything to worry about after all. It wasn't as if Amuro had any more reason to search through his room or his suitcase than Kogorou or Ran did. His secret would still be safe even if the PSB officer spent a couple of hours at the detective agency. Besides, if Amuro was spending the evening with him, at least it meant Conan would get to eat some of his cooking. 

"I'll be home in about two hours, Conan-kun. Remember to listen to Amuro-san and be in bed by eight-thirty," Ran lectured him, though not unkindly. "Amuro-san, please call me if there's any trouble at all." 

"We'll be fine, Ran-san. I doubt Conan-kun here will be of any bother," Amuro reassured her. 

"Alright. Thank you very much again for doing this," she answered with a bow to express her gratitude. 

As soon as Ran was gone, Conan found himself shifting about uncomfortably, silently bracing himself for the interrogation that was sure to come at any moment. Fortunately, however, the universe decided to take pity on him when, instead of insisting that they sit down and have a talk, Amuro kindly offered to cook something for dinner. 

"I assume I'm correct in guessing that you haven't eaten yet?" the man guessed. 

"Ah, no, I haven't," Conan agreed, pretending to be sheepish while inwardly thanking whatever good fortune he had left. "Ran-neechan and Kogorou-no-ojisan don't want me touching the stove, so I can't even make cup noodles." 

"Well, then I'll make some curry for you. How does that sound?" Amuro offered. Giving him a furtive wink, he added, "And I'll even let you help me if you'd like. I know Ran-san and Mouri-sensei would prefer if you stayed out of the kitchen, but I believe you can handle yourself. And what they don't know can't hurt them, isn't that right?" 

Of course, Conan knew that Amuro's words couldn't possibly have any hidden meaning behind them. The man might have been a brilliant detective and public security officer, but there was no way he could have any idea about the package that had been delivered to Conan earlier that afternoon. Still, the fact that his words were exactly the same ones that had crossed his mind as he tried to alleviate his guilt over lying to his surrogate family was rather unnerving. 

Just a coincidence. Amuro-san might be brilliant, but he's not psychic, he reminded himself sternly. Out loud, he replied happily, "Of course, Amuro-san, I would be happy to help." 

They set to work in the kitchen, clearing off the counter of any unnecessary items. Although he kept an eye on Conan, Amuro was rather lenient, allowing the boy to handle several dangerous objects that most sane adults would never dream of letting a seven-year-old touch. But Amuro was far from being completely sane, and anyway, he had never treated Conan like most seven-year-old boys. While he had no knowledge of the truth behind his identity, at least as far as the young detective was aware, he had always shown more respect and faith in Conan's abilities than most of the adults in his life. Believing that he could handle knives and hot stoves (granted, still with adult supervision) wasn't all that irresponsible of him. 

"By the way, Conan-kun, I had another talk with Akai recently," Amuro remarked suddenly as he was adding some seasoning to the curry. 

Conan felt his shoulders tense involuntarily. "O-oh, really? You guys seem to be doing that a lot lately...I always thought you two weren't close..." 

"Oh, we're not, but we can learn to work together when it comes to achieving a bigger goal," the Cafe Poirot worker answered dismissively. "Never mind that now, though. Aren't you curious to know what we talked about?" 

"Ah...something to do with those guys?" he guessed, knowing full well that it had nothing to do with the Black Organization at all. 

"No, although I can see why you would think that. But we were actually talking about you. Akai said he noticed something strange about your behavior recently," Amuro informed him. 

Damn it, how could he have found out? Wait, did he find out? What have I been doing that's so strange lately? Conan wondered to himself, nearly panicking. Trying to appear as innocent as possible, he asked, "What...what do you mean, Amuro-san? What exactly did Akai-san say was so strange?" 

"Well, he told me that over the past couple of weeks, you suddenly seemed much more relaxed and happy," the PSB officer answered. 

He frowned at that. "That's not really all that weird, is it?" 

"I'm not finished yet. The reason he was concerned is that he couldn't find a reason for the change in your behavior. According to him, and looking at you now, I can see that he was right, you still looked like you hadn't been sleeping or eating properly," Amuro went on. He leveled Conan with an intense stare. "And from what both of us know, nothing has changed in your life recently." 

Once again, Conan shifted about uncomfortably. While his mood had improved after filling out the request for anti-anxiety medication, believing that he was finally about to turn his life around, he had ignored the fact that Akai would be able to pick up on the change in his demeanor. He would have thought that it would encourage the man to leave him alone; after all, most adults would see it as a good thing if a child cheered up after a period of feeling down. Clearly, however, Akai couldn't let his suspicions go for whatever reason. 

"Conan-kun?" Amuro's soft voice broke him out of his thoughts. "If there's anything going on that I should know about, you know you can tell me, right?" 

Conan just nodded and returned to chopping up the vegetables. He had a horrible feeling that Amuro could see right through him. 

Chapter Text

After dinner was over (and after helping Amuro with the dishes), Conan excused himself, saying that he wanted to go to bed early. Of course, his real intention was to take one of his pills since it would take at least half an hour for the effects to take hold, but he wasn't about to tell Amuro that. Surprisingly, the Cafe Poirot worker didn't question his desire to call it a night early even though most children his age wanted to stay up as late as possible. Conan realized that he must have looked even more tired than he was aware of if Amuro was willing to overlook something like that. 

"Make sure you wash up before bed. I'll wait here for Ran-san and Mouri-sensei to get back," Amuro instructed him. 

"I will, Amuro-san. Thank you again for dinner," Conan replied respectfully before heading off to the bathroom. 

Once he was in the bathroom, the small detective made quick work of washing his face and brushing his teeth. As he rinsed the excess toothpaste out of his mouth, he paused for a moment to stare at his reflection in the mirror. His hunch had been right; he did look extremely unwell. Somehow, the dark circles under his eyes had become even more pronounced. Granted, Conan had known for a while that things weren't looking good for him (even the Detective Boys had started commenting on how exhausted he looked), but he hadn't quite expected that they were this bad already. 

But that's why I'm taking these pills, he reminded himself firmly. 

Conan filled up a cup of water and took it back to his room, not bothering to be stealthy this time. There was no need, after all; it wasn't as if there was anything strange about wanting a drink of water before bed. Carefully, so as not to alert Amuro as to what he was up to, he unzipped his suitcase and took out one of the bottles. 

Here goes nothing, he thought. 

Quickly, he opened the bottle and swallowed one of the pills. He was almost tempted to take another one just for good measure until he remembered that he was technically seven years old and the last thing he wanted to do was expose himself via an accidental overdose. Part of Conan doubted whether a second pill would actually do him any harm, but he wasn't about to take the risk right now. Brushing the temptation aside, he put the bottle away and zipped up his suitcase again, pushing it back into the closet. 

The oxazepam pill didn't take effect right away, not that Conan had expected it to. Nevertheless, he climbed into bed and crawled under the covers, reluctantly reaching over to turn out his bedside lamp. Conan wasn't ready to turn the lights out yet, not when the medicine hadn't kicked in, but he had already told Amuro that he was going to bed and he knew it would look strange if he had his lamp on. Closing his eyes, he turned over onto his side, hoping and praying to a deity he didn't believe in that the voices and faces would stay away tonight. 

Just one night, Conan pleaded silently. Just one night without seeing any of them. That's all I'm asking for. Please, just let this medicine work. 

By some miracle, the universe decided to take pity on him for a change. Slowly, the weight on Conan's chest, while it didn't completely disappear, became significantly less pronounced than before. Even better, he had been in the dark for at least thirty minutes now, and he hadn't heard any screaming or seen any hate-filled faces yet. Silently thanking his good luck, he drew the covers around himself, preparing himself for the first good night's sleep he'd had in months. 

Not long after Conan had fallen asleep, Rei decided to check on the boy. It was just past eight-fifteen now, and Kogorou and Ran still hadn't returned home, so he figured he should at least make sure that Conan was alright. Considering he hadn't heard any sounds coming from the boy's room, he figured that he must be sleeping peacefully, but he also knew he couldn't be too sure of that. Lately, whenever Rei saw the young detective, he always looked to be on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion. It wouldn't have surprised him if he found Conan lying awake in bed. 

To his mingled surprise and relief, however, when he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Conan sleeping away in his bed, tucked underneath his blankets. From what he could see by the light shining through the crack in the doorway, the seven-year-old had a peaceful expression on his face. He didn't sleep with any stuffed toys the way most children his age did, not that he was entirely surprised by that. Conan was always so mature for his age; it made sense that he had already bypassed the need to sleep with a stuffed animal. Rei watched him for a few moments, feeling an odd sense of warmth welling up in his chest. 

He didn't have any children of his own, and at this point, he doubted whether he ever would. Not that he was too old for fatherhood to be a realistic option for him, but Rei couldn't lie to himself: he didn't want to take the risk of opening his heart to someone if they were just going to leave him too. Nearly every single person he had ever cared about was long dead, and over the years, Rei had learned not to let anyone in long enough to see his wounded heart. 

Yet somehow, when he looked at Conan, he found that he didn't care about that anymore. He knew it wasn’t logical and that despite how far ahead of his peers he was, Conan was still human and just as much at risk of death as anyone else. Rei also knew that his position made it especially dangerous for him to grow attached to Conan, as he was technically a member of the Black Organization and, therefore, supposed to be working against the boy. Somehow, though, none of that mattered. All the logic in the world wasn’t enough to prevent the softness he felt when looking at the tiny enigma of a child or the way his chest tightened in worry when he saw the way Conan’s health had declined over the past several months. Strangely, Rei found that he didn’t mind it at all. 

Granted, that probably had something to do with the way other adults in Conan’s life tended to handle him. 

In fairness to them, Rei couldn’t entirely blame them for their supposed callousness. He had seen enough to know that Kogorou, Ran, Sonoko, and the Division One officers genuinely cared about Conan. Unfortunately, they seemed to have forgotten that just because he acted like an adult didn’t suddenly mean he was an adult. And even if he had been, seeing death as often as he did would take a toll on anyone. Rei himself was twenty-nine, and the things he had seen often made him want to shut himself away and give up on it all. He couldn’t imagine how it must be affecting someone as young as Conan. 

But despite all of that, almost no one else in his life ever stopped to question whether the little detective was alright or not. Ran tried her best to take care of him, but understandably, there was only so much a seventeen-year-old girl knew about caring for children. The Division One officers often behaved like he was just another member of their ranks. And Kogorou tended to treat Conan more like a nuisance than anything. Oddly enough, the only other person who seemed the least bit concerned about Conan’s mental health was Shuuichi Akai. 

Talk about irony, Rei thought in mild amusement. Out of everyone I could possibly agree with on anything, it just had to be him. 

Still, no matter how much he disliked the FBI bastard, Rei had to admit that he could rest easier knowing there was someone else who could see Conan struggling the same way he could. Although he wished things could be different, his job as a triple agent meant that it simply wasn't feasible for him to keep an eye on the boy at all times. But if he couldn't always be there for him, at least Akai could fill in when he was away. There weren't many things Rei trusted the FBI agent with (almost none, as a matter of fact), but Akai had at least proven that he cared about Conan's well-being. Akai didn't have to meet him at the hospital when Conan fell ill, especially considering their history together, but he had done so anyway for the little detective's sake. And when Rei had flung Conan from one Ferris wheel to the other, hundreds of feet above the ground, somehow, there hadn't been any doubt in his mind that his sworn enemy would catch him. 

It probably should have seemed stranger that the one thing Rei trusted the person he hated most in the world with was the safety of the most important person in his life, but that was a can of worms he didn't even want to think about opening right now. 

"Good night, kiddo," Rei whispered, smiling softly at the seven-year-old dozing away peacefully on a bed that was much too large for him. 

Silently, he shut the door and headed back to the main living area, taking up a spot on the couch as he waited for the Mouris to return home. 

Chapter Text

Overall, the anti-anxiety medication was working better for Conan than he could have hoped. Ever since he started taking the oxazepam pills nearly two months ago, his sleeping schedule had improved drastically. Well, perhaps drastically was a bit of an overstatement considering he was still only getting about five hours of sleep every night, but it was certainly better than where he had been before. His friends had all commented that he looked like he was feeling more like himself, so Conan figured that his methods were working. If nothing else, at least he wasn't constantly fighting off fatigue from a lack of sleep anymore. 

On the other hand, however, while his medicine was useful when it came to making his nights a little more bearable, he still didn't have anything to combat the stress that followed him around during the day. That was more than a little problematic, seeing as how all of the cases he worked on occurred when he was awake. Of course, the logical thing to do would have been to order a different prescription that was meant to be taken during the day, but Conan was rather reluctant to take that path. He was already hiding enough pills from everyone else as it was; he didn't want to test his luck by adding more to the list. 

In the end, Conan resigned himself to gritting his teeth and waiting it out until he could take a dose of medicine at night. Whenever he encountered yet another dead body, whenever there was a victim he couldn't save, and whenever he heard the anguished scream of a widow, mother, father, sibling, or friend who had just lost their loved one, he steeled his nerves and reminded himself that it would only be a few hours before he would be able to get a bit of relief. He counted down every hour and minute, playing the part of an innocent seven-year-old boy who just so happened to know a lot more about several topics than he should. 

Amuro and Akai, always the observant ones, noticed that he was struggling. Still, Conan continued to politely brush off their concern, insisting every single time that he was fine and that he was just tired after a long day. 

Just a little bit longer, he told himself every single time. Just a little bit longer, and then I'll be able to take another pill. I just have to make it through a few more hours. I've made it this long; I can wait a little more. 

Well, he held out for as long as he could, at any rate. Conan knew the dangers of using drugs, and when the pills had first arrived, he had made a promise to himself that he would stick to the prescribed dosage. He didn't want to give his friends and family any more reason to worry about him, and he certainly didn't want to risk being caught taking his pills. But as time went on, the stress never fully went away, his life had become a constant state of counting seconds and minutes, and the guilt he felt over lying to everyone was almost overpowering. 

Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore. One day, after a case involving the murder of two high school girls, Conan slipped away from the group and pulled out a plastic bag of pills he carried between the detective agency and Professor Agasa's house, as well as a bottle of water. He knew that what he was doing was wrong; he knew he was supposed to wait, and he knew it wouldn't be that much longer before his scheduled dose anyway. But the case had been gruesome, he could still hear the wails of the girls' parents echoing in his mind, and he just didn't have it in him to survive the final few hours. Quickly, Conan took out one of the oxazepam pills and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it with a gulp of water. 

"What are you doing there, kiddo?" 

Conan froze momentarily, cursing himself as he heard Amuro's voice coming from just behind him. By some twist of fate, both Amuro and Akai (still disguised as Subaru) had ended up working on the case together. He had hoped that being forced to work in proximity with each other would distract them from him, but apparently, they were more willing to put aside their enmity for the sake of looking after him than he had thought. Forcing an innocent smile onto his face, he turned around just as Subaru glanced over from where he was conversing with Professor Agasa and Detective Takagi, evidently having realized that something was going on between Conan and Amuro. 

"Oh, it's nothing, Amuro-san. I just had a headache, that's all," Conan assured him, trying to sound as innocent as possible. 

"Is that so?" Amuro's tone was enough to tell the young detective that he hadn't bought his lie at all. Fortunately, it didn't seem as though he intended to call him out in front of everyone. "Well, in that case, would you like me to drive you home? The case is finished now, and if you're not feeling well, there's no need for you to stick around." 

"Yeah, alright. Thanks, Amuro-san," he agreed, knowing there was no way he could reasonably turn down the offer now that Amuro was convinced that he was feeling sick. Technically, he supposed that wasn't a lie. It just wasn't the type of sickness Amuro was probably thinking of. 

Excusing themselves from the rest of the group, Amuro placed a hand on Conan's shoulder and guided him out the door. As they passed by Akai and Takagi, however, Conan noticed him give the FBI agent a meaningful look out of the corner of his eye. Grimacing to himself, he averted his eyes and stared down at the floor as he walked outside with Amuro. He wasn't sure what that look meant, but he was certain that he wasn't going to like whatever came of it. 

Fortunately, the drive back to the detective agency passed by in silence. The dose hadn't taken effect quite yet, so Conan leaned against the window, trying to keep his mind off of the two dead teenagers. Of course, as it almost always happened to be the case, he was unsuccessful. Closing his eyes, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. Whether Amuro knew what was going on in his mind was hard to tell, but his grip on his shoulder never loosened. 

When they arrived back at the agency, Amuro took Conan upstairs to his room before excusing himself to make a phone call. He left with the order that Conan was to stay in bed and take a nap, telling him that he would be downstairs in the cafe if he needed anything. It was rather strange, especially considering Amuro had adamantly refused to leave him alone just a few weeks ago, but he decided not to think anything of it. By now, Conan had been around the Cafe Poirot worker long enough to know that he lived by his own rules. 

He closed his eyes and turned over onto his side, silently cursing himself for his stupidity. After weeks of keeping the drugs a secret from everyone in his life, in the span of one day, he had undone it all. Granted, maybe Amuro didn't know exactly what the medicine was for, but he knew that Conan was carrying around pills in his backpack now, and he clearly hadn't believed him when he said that they were just painkillers. On top of that, as if getting caught wasn't enough, he had broken his own rule. Despite knowing what it could lead to if he started taking extra doses, he had let his weakness get the best of him.  

But all the same, one extra pill won't make a difference in the long run, right? Conan tried to reason with himself. It's really not a big deal. I'll just make sure to stick to the schedule from now on. There's nothing to worry about. Everything is all under control. 

It would have been a lot easier to believe that if he could ignore how long he had been fighting against that temptation.

After sending Conan to take a nap, Rei headed downstairs and entered Cafe Poirot, pretending to be busy with some post-closing time cleaning as he pulled out his phone. Although he didn't have any solid proof, something didn't sit right with him about the pill he had seen Conan swallow when he thought nobody was looking. Rei couldn't make himself believe that it had been a simple painkiller. But Conan wasn't in any state to be confronted about it now, so he decided to call the only other person he could talk to about this. 

"Furuya-san? What do you need?" Akai asked by way of greeting. Rei heard the sound of water boiling in the background and assumed that his old rival must be back home by now, or rather, back at the Kudo mansion. 

"I'll make this quick. Has Conan-kun started taking any new medications that you know of?" he asked bluntly. 

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "New medications? No, not that I'm aware of...but then again, I don't think Conan-kun would share that type of information with me or with anyone else." 

"Ah...no, I suppose he wouldn't," Rei acknowledged. "So you haven't noticed him taking any pills recently?" 

"No, not unless you count the ibuprofen Professor Agasa gave him when he had a headache last week. But what makes you ask that anyway?" Akai inquired curiously. 

He sighed. "I guess you must not have seen, but Conan-kun has been keeping a bag of pills in his backpack. While you were busy talking to Professor Agasa after the case, I saw him take one out and swallow it with water. When I asked him about it, he told me that he had a headache and just wanted some relief." 

"And you don't think he was telling the truth?" the FBI agent guessed. 

Rei hesitated for a moment, unsure how to continue the conversation. Even to himself, he knew how paranoid he probably sounded. After all, it wasn't as if he had any direct evidence that Conan hadn't been taking a painkiller. All in all, the boy hadn't really done anything to raise suspicion. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the knot twisting his stomach refused to loosen. 

"I'm hoping I'm just making a big deal out of nothing," he answered at last. "But we both know that Conan-kun has been having a hard time lately. He seems to be sleeping better, but, well, you've seen how he is during the day. When I drove him back home today, he just stared out the window the whole time. I don't know if the pill had anything to do with that, but..." 

"But with his behavior recently, we can't just pass it up as a coincidence," Akai finished. 

"I don't think he's an addict or anything like that," Rei added quickly. 

"No, no, of course not. I don't believe he is either," the FBI agent assured him. 

"Still, all the same, I think we should keep an eye on him just in case he is using pills to manage his stress. This could spiral out of control quickly if someone isn't monitoring him," he warned his sworn enemy-turned-unlikely-ally. 

"Perhaps it would be best if we talked to him about the pills ourselves?" Akai suggested. 

The idea had merit, he had to admit. If they talked to Conan about the dangers of self-medicating to relieve anxiety, perhaps they could stop him from using too much. But something held him back. Judging by his behavior today, Conan wasn't ready for anyone to know about the pills yet. If they pushed him too hard, he would just shut down on them, and the situation would turn into an even bigger mess. 

Perhaps he should have questioned how Conan would have gotten hold of anxiety medication in the first place, considering he needed a prescription in order to get them. That didn't even cross his mind, however. It was Conan Edogawa they were talking about, after all; if anyone could find a way to bypass the system and get his hands on a few bottles of prescription pills, it would be him. 

"Right now, let's hold off on questioning him about them," Rei decided after a few moments. "He's not ready to be confronted about it yet, and if we push him too soon, we'll just end up making things worse. Keep watching over him, but don't mention anything to him about the medicine. We'll talk to him when it seems like he's ready." 

Of course, it wasn't the most solid plan in the world, and both of them knew it. Unfortunately, both of them also knew it was the best they could do at the moment. Heaving a sigh, Rei ended the call and buried his face in his hands, wishing the universe would tell him how he was supposed to help the little boy sleeping peacefully upstairs. 

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, during his true childhood, Conan might have believed that superheroes existed and that there were people in the world who could swoop in and save the day no matter how impossible the odds seemed. Just as any five-year-old boy would, he dreamed of men and women who could fly through the air at breakneck speed and lift entire buildings with just the tips of their fingers. Of course, he had long since learned that people like that only existed in bedtime stories and cartoons. When it came to real life, however, the closest thing to a superhero anyone would ever find were doctors, firefighters, police officers, paramedics, and anyone in similar professions. Not to trivialize the work they did, but Conan knew they couldn't always save everyone. It would have been ridiculous to expect them to; after all, everyone had to die at some point or another.  

He didn't need anyone to save him, though, not really. If there was one thing Conan prided himself on, it was being self-reliant. But if he hadn't already bothered so many people with his problems as it was, he had to admit that it would have been nice to have someone to share the burden with. 

In retrospect, he should have realized that he was deluding himself by thinking that taking an extra dose of oxazepam pills would be a one-time occurrence. It was an age-old saying, after all. Bad habits took zero effort to form, yet they always took a hundred times as much effort to break. On top of that, the fleeting hours of serenity he got from the pills in between trying to keep his life together were among the few bright spots in his world right now. Any sane person, no matter who they were (although granted, Conan wasn't sure whether he could be classified as sane right now), would jump at the chance to alleviate their suffering. But he had underestimated how much he would crave that sense of relief, or perhaps he had simply been arrogant enough to believe that he could outsmart his own temptation. Whatever the reason was, somehow, one extra dose had turned into two, then three, then four, and so on until Conan found himself sneaking away to take one of his pills whenever he picked up a new case. 

And, sometimes, he did so when he looked at the people who cared so much about him (even if he didn't always understand why) and realized just how awful he was being to all of them. 

Everyone, especially Akai and Amuro, had expressed concern over his health during the past few months. Whenever they did, however, Conan still found himself lying to them, insisting that he was perfectly fine, that the pills were just headache relievers, and that he really was sleeping much better. Deep down inside, he knew that he wasn't being fair. All they wanted to do was make sure he was alright; the least he could do was meet them halfway and tell them the truth about how he was feeling. But whenever he was on the verge of opening up to them, he could never bring himself to go through with it. His relationships with Akai and Amuro had started off as collaborators, and while the two law enforcement agents had started to treat him in an almost parental manner, he didn't feel fully comfortable letting them into his life in that way yet. His pride wouldn't allow him to accept that they might have had a point in treating him the way they were, and he didn't want to cause any more trouble than he already had. Sometimes, when Conan looked at them, all he wanted to do was apologize for the fact that they had met him in the first place because he was supposed to help them, and yet lately, it felt like he had only succeeded in doing the opposite. 

So he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to give them another reason to worry about him, and he tried to pretend as if he knew how to continue with his life in a semi-normal fashion. He played the part of a normal seven-year-old boy and acted as if he didn't feel trapped and on the verge of falling apart at the same time. All the while, the guilt continued to gnaw away at him from the inside. As the stress and anxiety continued to build up, he found himself longing for another pill, and yet whenever he took one, he instantly hated himself for giving in to the temptation. He always held out for as long as he could, knowing that he had already set himself down a dangerous path, and yet no matter what, he always ended up losing the fight. When he was at his worst, he would snap at Akai or Amuro, at Ran, and sometimes, even at the Detective Boys. Conan apologized every single time, telling them that he was just dealing with some things without going into detail, and they, bless their hearts, never seemed to hold a grudge against him even though he definitely deserved it. 

It was an impossible situation, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do now. Conan didn't want to tell anyone that he wasn't coping well; he didn't want anyone to know just how badly he was struggling. But at the same time, he didn't know how much longer he could keep up his facade of being fine and happy. Everything hurt and he just wanted someone to take the pain away, but he had dug himself too deep into the proverbial hole to ask that of Akai and Amuro without making everything worse. They cared about him in a way he hadn't felt from anyone in a long time, but they also trusted him more so than probably almost anyone else in their lives, and Conan knew he was being incredibly selfish by taking advantage of said trust. He felt as though he was being stretched thin, torn between wanting to confide in them and wanting to tell them to leave before they could get hurt from being around him any longer. 

Sometimes, Conan tried to steel himself against the regret tearing him apart from the inside by telling himself that Akai and Amuro only cared about him because of his detective skills. He tried to make himself believe that they overestimated his abilities and that if he was gone, sooner or later, they would realize that the world had far better collaborators to offer than a shrunken high school kid. Unfortunately, those lies always fell apart when they placed a steadying hand on his shoulder after a rough day and talked to him in soft, earnest voices that made him feel both vulnerable and safe at the same time. 

"Conan-kun?" 

Coming back to reality, Conan shook his head as he found himself sitting next to Akai on the couch inside his parents' mansion. Looking up, he realized that the movie they had been watching was playing the end credits now, and he felt a jolt of surprise. He hadn't realized that he had zoned out for so long. 

"Ah...I'm sorry about that, Akai-san. I was just thinking," he apologized quickly. 

Akai placed a hand on his shoulder, a soothing gesture that, to his horror, made him want to cry. "Are you okay, kiddo?" 

Logically speaking, Conan knew the question was meant to help him, which was ironic because it was about the worst thing Akai could have asked him at that moment because no, he wasn't okay, he didn't know when he had ever been less okay, and he didn't know if he would ever be okay again. Once again, here he was, on the verge of letting everything out and knowing that he couldn't do it because he was a liar, he was a burden, and Akai shouldn't have to trouble himself with caring about someone like him. There was pressure building up behind his eyes, it felt as though the walls were closing in on him, and he had to clench his fists around his sweater to keep them from shaking. Knowing he couldn't hold it back for much longer, Conan took a deep breath and pushed himself off the couch. 

"I...I'm alright, Akai-san. I'm just feeling a little tired," he lied easily. "I think I'm just going to take a nap if that's okay..." 

Without waiting for a response, Conan quickly walked away and headed upstairs toward his room. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough to avoid seeing the worry that filled the presumed-dead FBI agent's eyes. Not caring about maintaining appearances for once, he picked up the pace ever so slightly, knowing he had to get away from the living room before Akai could say or do anything that would break the dam he had built to wall in his emotions. 

As soon as he was in the safety of his bedroom, Conan shut the door and slid down against the wall. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he lowered his head onto his arms, trying to focus on maintaining his breathing as he fought against his tears and the hateful voice inside his head telling him he was pathetic for not telling the truth right then and there. He was selfish and inconsiderate, but he couldn't open up, not yet. 

Chapter Text

Akai wasn't surprised when he didn't see Conan (or was he supposed to refer to him as Shinichi?) again for the rest of the day even though it was just barely past four-thirty when he went upstairs. Nor was he surprised when he went to check on the boy and offer him something for dinner, only to find him fast asleep. For some reason, a nagging voice in his head told Akai that he shouldn't leave Conan alone, so he pulled up a chair and sat next to the boy's bed. Fortunately, the sound of the chair's legs scraping against the floor wasn't enough to wake him up. 

Without a doubt, the boy definitely took after his father more so than his mother. They shared many of the same personality traits, the same keen observation skills and love of mysteries, and Shinichi had inherited much more of Yusaku's physical appearance than he had of Yukiko's. Even so, he had still managed to pick up at least some of his mother's acting abilities, a trait that had served him well when it came to concealing his identity. Still, there were limits to how far those skills could take him. For months now, Akai had watched as the haunted look in the boy's gaze had grown steadily more pronounced because his eyes could never seem to tell a lie quite as well as the rest of him. 

He had already been worried before, but after today, he knew he needed to talk to Furuya again and reconsider their plan to let Conan come to them with his problems. In what had admittedly been a poor attempt at cheering him up, Akai had suggested that they watch Conan's favorite movie. Throughout the entire movie, however, the boy remained lost in his own world, never reacting to anything that was happening on the screen. Akai would know; he had, admittedly, paid more attention to Conan than to the movie as well, and that was how he could say with certainty that the little detective had spent the entire two hours staring down at the floor with a hollow look in his eyes. At one point, he had reached out to offer some form of comfort, only for Conan to tense up and draw further into himself. He had been so detached from reality, however, that Akai couldn't say for sure whether that had been a voluntary reaction on his part or not. 

Whatever the case was, it was obvious that waiting for Conan to come to them wasn't going to work. Despite the fact that he was obviously feeling worse and worse, he had shown no intention of admitting that he needed help. On the contrary, it seemed that the worse he got, the more determined he became to handle everything on his own. Akai knew that if they didn't intervene soon, they might lose any chance at saving him. The only question now was how to approach Conan without driving him further away instead. 

Before he could pursue that train of thought, however, he was jolted back to reality by the sound of a scream piercing the air. 

In an instant, Akai was on his feet, ready to defend Conan from whoever was attacking him. Almost immediately, however, he realized there was nobody else in the room except for the two of them. Quickly, he rushed over to the boy's side as he continued to scream, thrashing about violently. Akai had to jump back to avoid being kicked in the stomach, and Conan somehow managed to fling out his arm with enough force to send his bedside lamp crashing to the floor at least ten feet away. 

"Conan-kun? Conan-kun, wake up, it's alright. It's alright, kiddo, wake up," Akai said loudly, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the young detective's screaming. 

Conan's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright, and for a moment, Akai thought everything was alright again. That quickly changed when the boy's eyes turned toward him and, instead of filling with recognition, remained wide and terrified. Akai reached out to try to touch him, which immediately proved to be a mistake when Conan swung at him with much more force than a seven-year-old boy should possess, forcing him to dodge the blow again. 

"Go away! All of you, go away! Leave me alone!" Conan screamed, his arms and legs flailing about as he tried to fight off an invisible assailant. 

"What? Conan-kun, there's nobody else here. It's just you and me, kiddo. You're here, you're safe. Just wake up," Akai urged him, unable to keep a note of desperation out of his voice as his attempts at waking up the boy were met without success. 

"Help me, please, Akai-san, Amuro-san, please, get them away from me! Help me, please, make them leave, I don't want to see them!" he wailed. 

Akai wanted to reach out to him again but quickly thought better of it. "You're here, you're okay. There's nobody here that's going to hurt you, Conan-kun. It's alright. You're safe." 

But no matter what he said or did, nothing he did was enough to coax the little detective back to reality. Conan continued to thrash and scream, wailing that he wanted them to leave him alone, whoever they were. At one point, he began to claw at his face as though trying to pry someone's hands (or something of the sort) off of him, at which point Akai was forced to grab his arms and hold them away from his cheeks so he wouldn't injure himself. 

It seemed to take forever, but eventually, Conan finally calmed down. His body relaxed again at last, and he turned over onto his side, once again snoring softly as if nothing had happened. Akai remained alert for several moments, but it seemed as if Conan was truly alright now. 

Once he was certain that the boy wasn’t going to start screaming again, he slumped back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Now that the terror of the moment was fading, Akai was acutely aware of how exhausted he was. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his still-racing heart. Akai wouldn’t ever admit it out loud to anyone, but seeing Conan flail and scream and beg for someone to save him all while being powerless to do anything to wake him was terrifying. 

If there had been any reservations in his mind about getting help for Conan, they were gone now. Tonight had proven once and for all that they couldn’t wait any longer. Taking a moment to gather himself, Akai pulled out his phone and dialed Furuya’s number. 

“Hello?” Furuya’s voice sounded on the other end, somehow wide awake even though it was well past ten o’clock. “What is it?” 

“I can’t explain it tonight, but how soon can you be here tomorrow?” Akai asked, not even bothering with a greeting of his own. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line before the PSB officer replied, “I can be there by seven-thirty.” 

“Good. I’ll see you then,” he agreed. 

“What do you need to see me about first thing in the morning anyway, though?” Furuya asked, though for once, no hostility was present. “What’s going on?” 

“Conan-kun is in trouble,” Akai answered curtly. “That’s what’s going on.” 

Chapter Text

Just as he had promised, Furuya arrived at the Kudo mansion just a few minutes before seven o'clock the following morning. After confirming that the PSB agent had come alone (he had), Akai answered the door, for once not bothering to put on his Subaru Okiya disguise. It was rather pointless anyway, as Furuya already knew who he was, and he had more pressing matters to worry about than concealing his identity. He would just have to trust that Furuya wasn't planning to turn him in once their meeting was over. Fortunately, the blond-haired man seemed more concerned with taking care of Conan lately than concocting plans to poison Akai's breakfast. 

"Alright, I'm here. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? What did you mean last night when you said that Conan-kun is in trouble?" Furuya asked by way of greeting as soon as he stepped inside. He paused, then added, "And just where is he anyway?" 

"He's still asleep upstairs. I'm afraid he had a rough night. I expect he won't get up for a while yet," Akai answered, leading the blond-haired man into the dining room. 

"Elaborate, please," the PSB officer requested, taking a seat across from him. 

With a sigh, Akai went into a detailed explanation of everything that had transpired the previous day, including Conan's odd detachment from reality that had persisted for most of the afternoon. He told Furuya about how he had suggested they watch a movie together, only for Conan to spend the duration of the film staring off into space, as well as the way the boy had disappeared into his bedroom well before dinner and never came back down. As the report went on, Furuya's expression grew darker and darker with worry. When Akai began to tell him about the nightmare Conan had suffered, as well as his failed attempts to wake him, the triple agent's shoulders visibly slumped forward. 

"He just kept screaming and thrashing as if he was being attacked. And he was begging me...you...begging us to help him, to save him. But no matter what I did, I couldn't get him to snap out of it," Akai murmured, unable to keep a note of pain out of his voice. "At one point, I even had to grab his hands because he started clawing at his face. Eventually, he fell back asleep on his own, but..." 

"That was most likely a night terror that you saw," Furuya told him grimly. 

"A night terror?" he repeated. 

"Are you familiar with them?" 

"I've heard of them, but that was the first time I've ever seen one in person," Akai answered. "I remember Shuukichi would sometimes wake us all up screaming, especially if we watched a horror movie, but our mother could always snap him out of it. And I was hardly ever around my sister when she was younger, so I don't know if she's ever suffered from night terrors." 

"That makes sense," the PSB officer agreed. 

"I screwed up last night, though. You're not supposed to try to wake someone up from a night terror," he admitted. "Seeing Conan-kun like that worried me...it didn't even occur to me that it might not be a regular nightmare." 

"Maybe so. But it could have gone worse," Furuya acknowledged. "Stopping Conan-kun from hurting himself was a good move." 

"Yes, well..." Akai coughed awkwardly, eager to get the conversation away from his disastrous attempt at providing comfort for the young detective. "Never mind that now. Has Ran-san or Mouri-kun ever mentioned anything about Conan-kun having nightmares or night terrors before?" 

"No, never. Ran-san has said that she hears Conan-kun pacing around in the middle of the night before, but neither of them has ever mentioned anything like that," Furuya denied. 

That confirmed that the episode last night was a very recent development, something that Akai had already suspected seeing as nobody else ever said anything about it happening before either. He wasn't sure whether to feel reassured or worried about that information. On one hand, if last night was the first time Conan had ever suffered from a night terror, it meant that he hadn't had to cope with them before. But on the other hand, it also reaffirmed his suspicions that the boy's mental state was progressively getting worse and worse. 

Looking at Furuya now, Akai noted for the first time the poorly-hidden weariness in the other man's eyes, as if he hadn't slept all night either. His worry for Conan couldn't have been any clearer, and he might have thought more about how endearing it was under better circumstances. Right now, however, Akai's only concern was figuring out how to approach the boy and offer their help. 

"I suspected as much," he admitted after a while. "That's why I called you over today. I think we need to reconsider waiting for Conan-kun to come to us and just talk to him ourselves. It's been months, Furuya-kun, and he isn't getting better at all, but he won't admit that anything's wrong either. It's as if the worse he gets, the more determined he is to pretend that everything's okay with him. I'm going to be honest, if we don't step in now, then..." 

"If we don't step in now...then what?" Furuya prompted. But one look at the expression in the triple agent's eyes told Akai that he already knew what was coming next. 

Taking a deep breath, Akai looked at the man who had become such an unexpected ally in the past few months and replied quietly, "If we don't step in now, then I don't know how much longer Conan-kun will be around for us to help anymore." 

The not-so-subtle implication of his words left a heavy silence in the air between the two law enforcement agents. For several moments, Akai stared down at his hands, feeling his stomach twist itself into a knot. It was strange, but it was as if by admitting his fears to Furuya, he was stripping away the last shred of hope (however small it might have been) that he was reading too much into the situation and that Conan would be fine if they just gave him a little more time. He knew, though. And judging by the way Furuya swallowed visibly, he did too. 

"I know what you mean," Furuya murmured after several moments. "I've been thinking the same thing, but I was hoping that I was just being paranoid. But if we can both see it..." 

"We'll talk to him after he wakes up. And after he has something for breakfast," Akai decided, silently adding, If we can even get him to eat anything, of course. 

"How do you want to approach this?" the blond man asked. 

He thought for a few seconds, then answered, "It's probably best if we just keep it as direct as possible. There's no sense in beating around the bush, especially since Conan-kun will likely see right through us if we even try." 

It was still a risky move, and both of them knew it. If they were too direct with their approach, they might just end up causing Conan to shut down even more. But at the same time, Akai knew they couldn't get away with trying to play coy either. The trick would be finding a middle ground. 

Akai realized that meant Furuya needed to be the one to lead the discussion. While he knew all about being direct with other people, he also knew he lacked the tact necessary to keep Conan relatively at ease during a conversation like this, a skill that Furuya was well-versed in. His former rival from the Black Organization had always been good at hiding his relentless pursuit of information behind charming smiles and friendly gestures. On the other hand, Akai had always struggled a bit with knowing how to talk to people, something that hadn't improved after Akemi Miyano's murder and, later, his time spent in hiding after faking his death. 

"If you don't mind, I'll cook something for Conan-kun. From what I hear about your cooking, we should probably keep you out of the kitchen," Furuya told him, and if his tone hadn't been so matter-of-fact, Akai might have thought he was teasing him. Without waiting for a response, the blond-haired officer walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, and took a look inside. "Let's see, we've got a half-empty carton of eggs, a few bottles of water, two pieces of chicken breast, and some sad-looking fruits and vegetables. How do you live like this?" 

"Well, I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while. I don't often have other people around, so if I buy too much, it goes bad quickly," Akai defended himself. 

Furuya shook his head, walking over to the pantry. "Alright, and it looks like we have some oatmeal, granola, and instant ramen in here...alright, I think I can work with this." 

"I can make some coffee," Akai offered, getting out of his seat to join Furuya in the kitchen. "Don't worry, I know how to do that much." 

"What exactly were you planning to do about breakfast if I wasn't here anyway?" the other man asked, shooting him a look over his shoulder. 

"Ah, well...usually, Conan-kun just goes to Poirot or Professor Agasa's house for breakfast whenever he stays over," he admitted. "I don't think he trusts my cooking either." 

"Smart kid," Furuya retorted rather smugly.

“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and make Conan-kun something to eat,” Akai retorted, crossing his arms in displeasure.

By the time Conan arrived downstairs, Furuya had prepared a breakfast of oatmeal, chopped fruit, and scrambled eggs while Akai had poured each of them a cup of coffee. Conan murmured a greeting to the two older detectives, and Akai noted with concern how exhausted he still looked. His eyes were dull, and he moved with an almost dreamlike slowness as he went to sit down at the table. Akai kept an eye on the boy as he ate, and he was relieved to see that he at least managed to make a significant dent in the food. Apparently, Conan had managed to work up an appetite, although the fact that it was Furuya’s cooking probably played a role. 

“Did you sleep well last night, kiddo?” Akai asked, exchanging a glance with Furuya. 

“Eh…I guess it was fine,” Conan answered with a halfhearted shrug. “I’m still kind of tired today though…” 

Well, at least he admitted that he was still tired, which was more than Akai had expected. 

“You have the day off from school today, so you can go back to bed after breakfast if you’d like,” he offered. 

“I might,” Conan agreed, which both Akai and Furuya understood to mean that he absolutely would not. 

“Before that, there’s something we need to talk to you about,” Furuya spoke up. 

At that, the young detective’s expression grew resigned. “Is it about the pills?” 

Furuya blinked in surprise. “Ah…it is, yes.” 

“I knew it,” Conan murmured. “I know you already knew about the pills, Amuro-san. And I’ve seen the way both of you keep looking at me like you’ve got something you want to say but you’re holding back.” 

The two men hesitated briefly before Akai interjected, “Conan-kun, are we correct in guessing that those pills weren’t for headaches?” 

Conan seemed to shrink into himself at his words, a brief flash of guilt crossing his face. It was only there for a split second, and an ordinary person might have missed it. But Akai and Furuya were far from ordinary people, and the reaction told them all they needed to know. 

“I…I mean…no, they’re not for headaches,” he confessed. Quickly, he added, “But I promise they’re not anything bad either! They're...okay, so they're oxazepam pills. I’ve been…I asked for them so I could have something to take when I was feeling stressed out. I thought things would be better that way…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, kiddo. We’re not here to judge,” Furuya soothed him. “God knows we’ve done a lot worse to cope with stress.” 

"All the same, we do think it would be best if you considered other alternatives," Akai added firmly. 

The boy flinched visibly at that. "But...I..."

"You can't rely solely on self-medication," he told Conan gently. "I'm sure you already know what can happen if you take too many pills." 

"I know," Conan agreed, more than a little reluctantly. "I've been careful though, I promise. I know not to take too many of them. Everything is under control, really." 

"We know that you know you're not supposed to take too many," Furuya spoke up, reaching over to place a hand on Conan's arm. "But knowing isn't always enough. Because everyone knows what can happen if you start to rely too much on pills or other substances. This type of thing is a sickness, Conan-kun, it doesn't just happen because you didn't exercise enough common sense." 

"We've seen this before in our line of work, kiddo," Akai went on. "People end up in dark places because of addiction, and we don't want to see that happen to you." 

"Well, I'm not a drug addict, for your information, so I don't need your concern," Conan snapped, his eyes flashing defensively. A moment later, however, the spark in his eyes died and he lowered his head. "I'm sorry." 

"We're not saying that you're an addict, Conan-kun," Furuya said calmly, not at all fazed by the shrunken detective's outburst. "But we won't lie to you. That is where you're headed if you keep going the way you have been." 

"What do you mean? It's not that serious," Conan protested. "Okay, I admit I've taken a few extra pills here and there, but that's nothing to worry about." 

Furuya just looked at him, as did Akai. Conan held their gazes for a few seconds, then looked down at his hands. They all knew he took multiple doses at least twice or three times a week on average. 

Finally, the boy relented and sighed, "I...I know I shouldn't be doing this, but...if I stop, then..." 

"It's going to be alright, kiddo. We're not just going to leave you hanging," Akai soothed him. "We will get you the help you need. If we have to try out every therapist or counselor in Japan until we find the right one, then that's what we'll do. But the self-medication has to stop." 

He held Conan's gaze firmly, willing the boy to understand where they were coming from. The last thing Akai wanted to do was deprive him of something to help him with his anxiety, knowing all too well what a terrible existence it was when the comfort of one's own bed wasn't enough to block out the memories. But sometimes, there came a point where the solution was worse than the problem. Conan insisted that he wasn't addicted to the benzos yet, and on that, Akai agreed with him. There weren't enough drastic changes in his behavior for it to qualify as an addiction...not yet. Even so, the boy's obvious reluctance to give up the pills was almost certainly a sign that addiction was right around the corner. 

In an almost perverse way, Akai was grateful for the night terror. Without it, he might never have told Furuya that they needed to step in and do something for Conan, and they could have found themselves in a much worse situation. Too often in the past, he had encountered people whose lives had gone off the rails because of drugs or alcohol. They had lost their jobs, their homes, and sometimes, their friends and families. Sometimes, help came too late, and even if they managed to get things back on track, the fight was never truly over as the possibility of relapse was never completely gone. Akai shuddered to think about how close they had come to seeing Conan fall down that hole. 

"Conan-kun, we will do anything we can to help you," he said softly. 

"I..." Conan swallowed visibly, then took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright, I guess I can try." 

As soon as he gave his agreement, Akai felt his shoulders relax. "Thank you." 

"I'm sorry," Conan added quietly, staring down at his hands again. "All I've done is cause trouble for you guys lately." 

"Hey, now. That's not true," Furuya said gently. "You're not a burden on anyone, Conan-kun. We're here because we want to be here for you." 

At that, Conan finally cracked a smile. It was small and still didn't quite reach his eyes, but it was an attempt nonetheless, and Akai couldn't help feeling slightly encouraged at the sight of it. Maybe, just maybe, it was a sign that things were finally going to turn themselves around. 

Chapter Text

Later that day, after Akai had collected all of the pills Conan had been storing in his room, he and Furuya decided to take the boy to the park. After the difficult conversation over breakfast, they wanted to do something to take his mind off of things. Surprisingly, Conan was more receptive to the idea than Akai had expected. Usually, he preferred to avoid engaging in typical kid activities unless he was babysitting the Detective Boys, wanting to keep as much of his teenage identity as possible (understandably so). But perhaps even he wasn't immune to needing a chance to relax every once in a while. 

Fortunately, it seemed to do the trick. For well over an hour, Akai sat next to Furuya on a bench as they watched Conan kick around a soccer ball. The boy was an extremely talented player, even considering the fact that he wasn't actually seven years old, and Akai suspected he could join a professional team one day if he wasn't already dedicated to his detective work. Of course, he had seen Conan kick enough of his super-powered soccer balls to know that the young detective possessed a fair bit of skill, but this was better than even he had expected. 

"He's good, isn't he?" Furuya remarked, and Akai smiled a bit at the amazement he could hear in the other man's voice. "I think he might be better than some of the pro league players I've seen." 

"I'm surprised that someone hasn't signed him up for one of the youth leagues yet," Akai agreed. 

They sat in silence for several minutes, just watching Conan as he continued to kick his soccer ball around. As focused as he was on the boy's behavior, Akai almost didn't register how close he and Furuya were sitting to each other. Of course, they weren't sitting close enough for it to be inappropriate, but there was noticeably less distance between them than usual. He wondered whether Furuya had noticed it himself, and he debated whether it would be best to say something or not. 

"Do you think he's going to be okay?" Furuya spoke up again, his eyes still trained on Conan. 

To anyone else, he would have appeared utterly aloof, as if he was only putting on a show of concern. But Akai could read the triple agent like a book, and he could tell from the way the corner of Furuya's mouth twitched and his hands shook that seeing Conan in such a low state hurt him more than he was letting on. He didn't know everything about his former Black Organization comrade's past, but he was aware that Furuya had lost quite a few people he had once been close to. All of his close friends were dead, and any blood family he might have had were either dead as well or estranged. 

He still wasn't entirely sure whether he liked the PSB officer or not. Rei Furuya was set in his ways and rather unwelcoming of the foreign law enforcement agencies, something certainly expected of a man with as much pride in his country as he possessed. But beneath all of that stubbornness and nationalism was a man who had lost everything. It must have been nothing short of soul-crushing to know that all of his skills as a triple agent and his dedication to his work hadn't been enough to protect the important people in his life. Akai worried about how it would affect Furuya if he lost Conan too. 

It was tempting to reassure the blond-haired man that Conan would be perfectly fine and they had everything under control. But Furuya wasn't a fool, and he wouldn't fall so easily for naive optimism. They both knew that just because their conversation with Conan had gone well didn't mean they were in the clear. 

"I don't know," Akai answered after a few minutes. "I'm hopeful, but it's too early to say right now. But we're on the right track, so I think that counts for something." 

Furuya studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I figured as much." 

"It's going to be a long road, though. That conversation was a good starting point, but Conan-kun still has a way to go before he's recovered," he warned him. He hesitated for a split second, then added, "And even when all is said and done, after everything he's gone through, he might never completely be the same way he used to be again." 

"I know," his companion admitted. "I know it's going to be hard, and I know he might not fully recover. But I'm ready to take this road with him. Conan-kun, he...I..." 

He drew into himself ever so slightly, and if Akai hadn't been certain that doing so would earn him an elbow to the ribs or a kick to the shin, he would have placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. 

"I understand," Akai replied simply, and he did. 

The conversation died away after that, and the two men turned back to watch Conan again. By now, a group of children had coaxed him into a scrimmage, evidently drawn over by the boy's incredible skill with the game. Akai smiled to himself as he watched Conan playing with the other kids, still displaying a fair amount of his natural abilities but holding back enough that he didn't overwhelm them. Judging by the laughter and gasps of amazement he could hear, they were having the time of their lives. 

Evidently having seen the same thing, Furuya spoke up, "Maybe I'm just being overly optimistic here, but he looks better already, don't you think?" 

Akai hummed thoughtfully and smiled. "You know, Furuya-kun, I think you might be right." 

Little did Akai or Amuro know, however, that when Amuro dropped Conan off at the Mouri detective agency later that afternoon, the shrunken teenager would spend the next two hours sitting on the floor in the kitchen. Kogorou and Ran were nowhere to be found (he assumed they must have gone out shopping or to lunch), which meant that he had no choice but to sit alone with his thoughts. Well, he supposed Amuro was always downstairs in Poirot, but he was working a shift right now, and Conan wasn't about to disturb him. He had done enough of that lately as it was. 

Somehow, everything that could have possibly gone wrong had gone wrong, just as he had known it would. Akai and Amuro had seen right through his act of pretending to be perfectly fine, and now, they thought he was a drug addict. Maybe they said they didn't think he was, but Conan was fairly certain he could tell when someone was just saying something to appease him. Unfortunately, it was only possible to disregard their argument if he ignored how difficult it had been for him to actually hand over those pills. Either way, he had given them yet another reason to worry about him, which was the absolute last thing either Akai or Amuro needed. 

It was ironic, really. By doing everything in his power to try to ensure that he wasn't a burden on the people in his life, somehow, he had only succeeded in doing the opposite. Now, instead of focusing their attention on more important matters, Amuro and Akai had sworn to get him the help he needed. Conan was grateful for the effort, truly, he was. But if the past several months had taught him anything, it was that he was probably too broken to be fixed at this point. He had tried everything he could think of to get his life back on track, but now, he was too tired to continue fighting a losing battle.  

When the two law enforcement agents had taken him to the park, it had been easy enough to pretend to laugh and be a normal kid chasing around a soccer ball. Indeed, he would even go as far as to say that he had fun playing with the other children. They didn't know much about the game, and sometimes it looked like they didn't know their right feet from their left, but they were so enthusiastic that it was impossible not to feel a slight twinge of fondness for them. At the very least, it provided a distraction from the dark thoughts lingering in the back of his mind because the kids didn't know him, so they couldn't see through him as easily. Now, however, Conan was back at the detective agency, everyone else was gone, and there was nothing he could use as a distraction anymore. 

Strangely enough, however, even though everything had gone wrong, even though he didn't think he could force himself to smile if he tried, and even though he knew he was too far gone to be fixed, it didn't hurt nearly as much as it had over the past several months. There was no tightness in his chest, his stomach wasn't in knots, he could breathe just fine, and the ground didn't feel as if it was about to fall out from underneath him. Instead, all Conan felt was a sense of calm acceptance. 

He knew what he had to do. If there was one thing he still had, it was his ability to look at a situation logically. When a machine was broken beyond repair, there was only one course of action to be taken. 

Things would be better this way, Conan told himself. If he was gone, then he wouldn't be around to be a burden on anyone else. His friends and family could go on with their normal lives without having to worry about him as well. Amuro and Akai could focus on taking down the Black Organization, Kogorou and Ran wouldn't have to share living space with him anymore, Haibara could start her life over without worrying about making an antidote, and the Detective Boys would be free to be normal children without spending time around a death magnet. Maybe a few people would miss him, but, well, they would just have to learn to move on without him. It wouldn't be impossible. After all, the world had learned to live mostly without Shinichi Kudo. They could learn to live without Conan Edogawa too. 

Slowly, Conan pushed himself off the floor and walked into his bedroom, pausing only to grab a glass of water. He wasn't going to leave a note; there was no need for one, after all. Whether he left a letter explaining himself or not, the result would still be the same one way or another. 

I guess I'll find out for sure whether God exists or not, Conan mused to himself. 

When Amuro had dropped him off, just as Akai had done, he had asked Conan to hand over his pills. Unbeknownst to him, however, there was one bottle that Conan hadn't told him about. He couldn't say whether it was a premonition or not, but something had told him that he needed to store at least one bottle away from his usual stash. Fortunately, it hadn't been opened yet, meaning there were more than enough pills inside to get the job done. 

This is goodbye. 

Closing his eyes, Conan unscrewed the cap and grabbed a few handfuls of pills, swallowing them with water one by one. Once he was satisfied that he had taken enough, he sat back on his bed and waited. 

Rei was in the middle of sweeping around one of the tables inside Cafe Poirot when the unmistakable sound of a body falling to the floor upstairs jolted him out of his thoughts. Instantly, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. The Mouri father-daughter duo hadn't returned yet, and the sound hadn't been loud enough for the body to have been an adult's anyway. That meant it was Conan who had collapsed. He raced out of the cafe, past Azusa, who had stopped in the middle of washing a pot when she heard the noise, and up the stairs to Mouri's detective agency. His stomach was in knots and his heart was beating frantically out of his chest as he prayed to every deity he could think of that he wasn't too late. 

He kicked the door open, barely registering it as it slammed into the adjacent wall. There would definitely be damages to pay later, but right now, Rei couldn't have cared less about that. Conan was hurt, or maybe he was ill, he wasn't sure which one it was yet. Either way, he clearly wasn't well, and Rei needed to reach him in time. He wasn't going to let someone else slip away from him too. 

It was a small blessing, therefore, that the detective agency was fairly small, meaning there weren't too many places he had to stop to check for the boy. Even so, in his panicked state, it was impossible not to wonder if each second that passed without finding Conan would end up being the second that made the difference between saving him and losing him. Eventually, however, Rei burst into Conan's room, only to freeze in horror at the sight that greeted him. 

Conan was lying on the floor beside his bed, evidently having fallen off. There was a trickle of blood coming from his head, and somehow, that wasn't even the most concerning part. His face was pale, his lips were turning blue, and from what Rei could see, he hadn't responded at all to the door slamming open. Nor did he so much as twitch when Rei knelt down beside him, making a note of how cold and clammy Conan's skin felt as he lifted him into his arms. His chest was still, too still, and for a moment, the PSB agent feared the worst until he finally saw it inflate just barely. 

"Conan-kun? Conan-kun, wake up! Wake up," Rei hissed frantically, tears pricking at his eyes as he rubbed his knuckles against the child's sternum, desperately trying to provoke a response out of him. "Stay with me, kiddo, stay with me. I'm here, just stay with me. You're going to be okay, I promise. I promise I won't let you go." 

There was no time to call an ambulance now. Conan's breathing, already slow when he first found him, was growing shallower by the minute. Quickly securing the boy in his arms, Rei got back to his feet and raced back downstairs, making a beeline straight for his car. He tossed Conan into the passenger seat before jumping into the driver's seat, not even bothering to put on his seatbelt as he started the car and sped off in the direction of Beika General Hospital. 

"You're going to be okay, Conan-kun, you're going to be okay," he kept repeating over and over as he drove, and Rei couldn't have said whether he was trying to reassure Conan or himself. "I'll get you help, kiddo. I promise I'll get you help. Just hang in there a little bit longer." 

As soon as he pulled into the hospital parking lot, Rei grabbed Conan and sprinted toward the front doors, leaving the car unlocked. Ignoring the other patrons in the waiting room, he ran up to the front desk, nearly causing the nurse working there to jump out of her skin at the sight of his appearance. A moment later, however, her expression changed to horror when she saw the state Conan was in. 

"Please, help him! He needs medical attention right away!" Rei pleaded. 

Fortunately, the hospital staff was nothing if not efficient. Seemingly within seconds after an alert was sent out, a team of doctors had appeared with a stretcher for Conan. Rei handed the boy over, his heart twisting painfully as he realized how slow his breathing had become. 

This can't be happening. Not again. Please, not again. Not him too. Not like this. 

Rei could only watch numbly as Conan was wheeled away from him and down the corridor. The brilliant little detective, who was always so full of wit and snark, looked like a shell of himself. He hadn't moved at all since he found him, and now, there was nothing Rei could do except wait and hope that he hadn't been too late to help Conan after all. 

Somehow, even in the midst of feeling as if he was free-falling through an endless void, Rei was conscious enough to remember that he needed to tell Akai about what had happened. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and was about to dial the FBI agent's number but thought better of it. The last thing he wanted to do was fall apart in front of the other visitors and patients in the waiting room, which would almost certainly be the case if he tried to speak right now. Instead, he sent Akai a brief text message to explain the situation, which took far longer than necessary because he kept hitting the wrong buttons. 

Conan-kun overdosed. It doesn't look good. Come to Beika General Hospital. 

By the time Akai arrived at the hospital, Rei was sitting inside a room a team of nurses had prepared for Conan. The doctors had finished treating him a few minutes ago, but the little detective still showed no sign of waking up. He sat there in silence, staring at Conan as he tried to keep it together, only looking away when he heard the door open. Turning around, Rei saw Akai entering the room, and it was a split second before his exhausted mind registered the fact that he wasn't wearing his Subaru disguise. 

"Wait a minute! Why aren't you wearing your disguise?" he asked frantically, lowering his voice in case someone overheard him. "What if someone sees you?" 

"I took it off just before I came in," Akai explained, and it was a mark of how dire the situation was that he didn't make any mention of Rei's apparent worry for him. "I wore it to the hospital, but given the circumstances, I thought you might appreciate talking to the real me rather than a false identity." 

He was right about that, he did, but hearing Akai's words shattered the fragile wall he had built to hold back all the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm him ever since he found Conan collapsed on his bedroom floor. Tears began to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision at the corners. Even so, Rei tried to fight them back, determined to remain strong even as they began to leak down his face. 

"Tell me what happened," Akai prompted. 

To anyone else, it would have appeared as if Akai was simply asking for an explanation. But Rei knew it was so much more than that. As someone who dedicated himself entirely to his work, giving a report on the events of the afternoon would allow Rei to regain some semblance of control, and Akai must have realized that. It was an attempt at calming him down, but it was also Akai's way of letting him know that he understood him and that he didn't need to put up a front with him. 

He didn't need to pretend to be strong, not in front of him. 

Still, Rei tried his best to hold back his tears because he wasn't the type of person to let himself go. "I dropped Conan-kun off at the agency, and I asked him to give me his pills. I...I thought he gave me all of them, but...a while later, when I was cleaning up in Poirot, I heard him collapse. So I went upstairs to check on him, and that's when...that's when..." 

A few more tears spilled down his face, and he wiped them away impatiently before continuing, "I found him on the floor in his room. He was just...he was so pale and cold, and I thought he was dead at first. But he was still breathing, thank God. I tried to wake him up, but he wasn't responding, so I drove him to the hospital. The doctors got to him in time, and they think he's going to be alright, but...but..." 

His shoulders were shaking uncontrollably now as the tears streamed freely down his face. Akai stepped forward, a silent question in his eyes. And Rei was certain he would die of embarrassment when all was said and done and he had better control of himself. Right now, however, he couldn't have cared less about making a fool of himself. For once, he just needed someone to be there even if that person happened to be Shuuichi Akai. 

Akai took another step toward him, and Rei immediately moved to meet him halfway, burying his face in the other man's chest. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close as he finally let himself go. Sobs tore out of him, making his chest hurt and his entire body shake as he clung desperately to Akai's shirt. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." 

"I know." 

"It's all my fault. I...I should have checked, I should have made sure that I had all the pills, and now...and now..." 

"I know." 

"I can't lose him too, I can't." 

"I know." 

"Akai, why...why does this keep happening? Why?" Rei choked out, barely able to speak through his tears now. "Why does everyone I care about...always end up leaving me?" 

He couldn't say how long he stayed there, clinging desperately to a man he had spent years hating, crying harder than he could ever remember doing in his entire life. And Akai didn't try to offer any saccharine words of comfort or tell him that everything was alright. Nothing was alright, and both of them knew it. Instead, he simply held Rei and rubbed his back gently, perhaps knowing that was all he needed right now. 

Chapter Text

There was nothing Akai could do except hold Furuya close as he cried harder than he had ever seen him cry during the entire time they had known each other. He wished that he could have said or done something more, he did, but there didn't seem to be anything that would make the situation better right now. Telling Furuya that what happened wasn't his fault, he had done everything he could have done, and they would take care of Conan and make sure this didn't happen again wouldn't help matters. He knew all of that already, or at least Akai hoped he did, but the emotional shock was still too strong. All Furuya needed right now was someone who understood. 

Not that Akai would ever admit it to anyone, but in a way, he was almost grateful that Furuya was taking things as hard as he was. Of course, Akai didn't enjoy seeing him in pain but at least calming him down provided him with a distraction from his own thoughts and emotions. He knew it wouldn't last forever and that sooner or later, he would have to confront the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, but until then, he could put on a front of being calm and composed. It was something he had ample practice with, after all, and Akai liked to think he had mostly perfected the craft. 

For that same reason, he was also grateful that nobody else was in the room. While to a stranger, he would have looked as if he was perfectly fine, anyone who actually knew Akai would immediately realize he felt terrible. 

Ever since he was a child, Akai had never been particularly fond of any form of physical affection, and even now, the most he ever did was ruffle a kid's hair a little. Needless to say, hugs were completely out of the question. Perhaps it was a little ridiculous, but there was always too much vulnerability attached to physical affection for Akai to be comfortable with it. Even the smallest gestures required him to be able to let his guard down around the other person. His time in the FBI and as an undercover operative in the Black Organization had given him a million reasons to never, ever do that. 

Now, however, he didn't care about any of that. Receiving a text from Furuya telling him that Conan had overdosed had rattled him in a way he hadn't felt since Akemi Miyano's murder. And that wasn't even accounting for everything else that could have gone wrong. If Furuya hadn't been working an afternoon shift at Cafe Poirot, if he had decided to wait for an ambulance, or if they hadn't known about the pills beforehand, which had likely tipped him off to the fact that Conan's collapse hadn't been an accident, the message Akai received could have been much, much worse. Realizing how close they had come to losing Conan for good made him feel as if he was being torn apart inside, and as much as he hated to admit it, he needed someone to keep him steady as much as Furuya did. 

If there was ever a time when he needed to let his guard down, it was right now. 

At last, the sobs began to quiet and Furuya stopped trembling. Slowly, he extracted himself from Akai's embrace, sniffling and wiping his eyes. Akai kept one hand on the blond-haired man's back as he tried to even out his breathing, and Furuya made no move to push him away. 

"Are you alright now?" he asked softly. It wasn't the best question, given the circumstances, but he couldn't think what else to ask right then. 

"Better," Furuya agreed, his voice hoarse from crying. "I'm sorry about all of that." 

"Don't worry about it. It's a normal human reaction," Akai told him. 

Furuya swallowed visibly as a few more tears squeezed themselves out of his eyes. "I just can't help but think...what if we hadn't seen him with those pills? Or what if I hadn't been at the cafe today? What if I didn't make it in time?" 

"You can't think like that. Worrying about what might have happened never changes anything," he reminded the younger man, well aware of how hypocritical he was being considering his own thoughts had been spiraling down the exact same path. "We did see him with the pills, you were at the cafe today, and you did make it there in time. And now, once Conan-kun wakes up, we can focus him on getting him the help he needs." 

"I...I suppose you're right," the blond-haired man agreed. 

They sat in silence for several minutes, both men just staring at Conan as he slept on his hospital bed. Although Furuya seemed to have calmed down for real now, he still made no move to push Akai's hand away from him. On the contrary, he seemed to lean further into his touch. Whether that was intentional or simply an instinctive reaction was hard to say, but Akai decided against pointing it out. Now wasn't the time for that. 

"I hate them," Furuya hissed suddenly. 

Akai was well aware of how strong Furuya's hatred could be, having had it directed at him for a considerable amount of time now. Even so, the pure venom with which the PSB officer spoke now shocked him. He didn't think he had ever spoken to him with that level of bitterness and fury before, which was saying something considering Furuya thought he had driven his best friend to suicide. 

"Who are you talking about?" he asked, almost reluctant to voice the question aloud. 

"Everyone!" Furuya exclaimed. At the sound, Conan twitched slightly but didn't wake. He lowered his voice, but the anger didn't die away as he continued, "I hate his parents for dumping him off with that...with that incompetent old fool, I hate Mouri for wasting his time getting drunk and flirting with pretty women instead of actually doing his job as a father, I hate his teachers at school for not paying enough attention to realize that he was hurting, I hate everyone who let him get dragged into this mess, and I hate them for not even considering the fact that he might not be okay after seeing so many people die in front of him. For God's sake, he's seven years old. Why didn't someone just check on him?" 

"Conan-kun doesn't express pain the way most children do. And he acts so much like an adult most of the time, I suppose everyone else just has trouble figuring out how to treat him," Akai suggested. Inwardly, he agreed with Furuya's assessment, but once again, he had to be the rational one here. 

"And that's exactly their problem! They don't know the first thing about how to treat him! Just because he acts mature for his age doesn't suddenly mean he's not a child!" the blond-haired man argued furiously. "The only time anyone acts like he's a kid is when someone is trying to chase him away from a crime scene for interfering with the investigation! But other than that? Forget about it. Conan-kun was just kidnapped by a serial killer? It's okay, he's smart, he'll figure a way to save himself. The culprit is holding him hostage? Good thing he has those special gadgets from Professor Agasa! Inspector Megure and the Division One squad still can't figure out who blew up that orphanage? Don't worry because Conan-kun is here to figure it all out! They don't care that he's a child, not when it actually matters. They're all damn lucky that we even knew something like this was a possibility and that we made it to the hospital in time because if we hadn't, there would be nothing any of us could do! You can't do anything to bring back the dead. They would have had to live the rest of their lives knowing that he was gone for good. That after everything he did for them, after all the times he saved them, they weren't there for him when it mattered the most. That maybe he would still be here if they'd only...if they'd only..." 

"Furuya-kun, please..." Akai whispered. 

"Sorry. I'm sorry," Furuya croaked out, covering his face with his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

He wasn't crying now, but hearing the sheer hopelessness and overwhelming guilt in his voice felt even worse. For as he watched Rei crumple in on himself, Akai had a sinking feeling that Conan's overdose wasn't the only thing weighing on his mind right now.