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Being stuck as Edogawa Conan was fucking awful.
Being stuck as Edogawa Conan while simultaneously knowing the antidote existed but was being kept away from him was pure torture.
While Shinichi didn’t usually allow his emotions to run his life as he found them detrimental to clear, critical thinking, the last few weeks had been…challenging.
He tried his best to keep it in, to not to let it affect him, but the feelings of anger, hurt, and betrayal just kept simmering under the surface. The final straw came when he found out that Mary-san had been given the antidote despite the Organization thinking she was also dead. Shinichi lost it at that. He didn’t remember all that he had said, but what he did remember had been nasty, to say the least. Of course, the “adults” (read Mary-san) had clapped back with their own nasty barbs and insults about his youth and inexperience until he couldn’t take it anymore, took his skateboard, and blasted off down the street.
He didn’t pay attention to where he was going as he weaved in and out of the crowds of people and lines of cars. He simply let his anger fuel him.
Selfish.
Mary-san had called him selfish.
Oh yeah, he had been soooo selfish. How selfish of him to constantly lie to the people he loved and cared about to protect their lives. How selfish of him to hold in his own tears and pain to comfort Ran after she had finally reached her breaking point and broke up with ‘Shinichi’. How selfish of him to stand there and smile as Ran, Sonoko, and the rest of his friends celebrated their Coming of Age day while being forced to listen to them lament about how it was such a shame Shinichi-kun couldn’t be here. Those that weren’t convinced he was dead anyway.
How selfish of him to want to get his own body and life back.
A drop of rain hitting him square in the eye finally made Conan stop the skateboard.
Blinking, he glanced around, surprised to find that he had no idea where he was. He clearly wasn’t in Beika anymore. He automatically reached for his phone only to let out a soft curse when he found both pockets empty. Of course. As if the universe had purposefully set him up, memories came to the forefront of his mind. How his ‘Shinichi’ phone was with the Professor so the man could make it automatically change his voice so he wouldn’t have to juggle the bowtie anymore. How his ‘Conan’ phone had been having trouble keeping a battery charge and was currently plugged into the charger back in the Kudo mansion. How both his glasses and Detective Boy’s badge were tucked away in his backpack which was in his and Kogoro’s shared room back at the agency. The badge had been on purpose, the glasses had been an accident.
So now he was stuck in a random city with no way to contact anyone with only his skateboard, power sneakers, and tranquilizer watch, which was currently out of darts.
And the rain was picking up.
Sighing deeply, he glanced around to see if there was a police box or something he could use to call home. Humiliation colored his cheeks at the thought. As if Mary-san needed any more ammunition to use against him.
Lights caught his eye.
Turning, he saw the lights were coming from a bar called The Blue Parrot. Conan grimaced; of course, it was a bar. When Coanan got his original body back he was getting rid of every bit of alcohol from his life. Heck, he might even help Ran get and keep her father sober just so he didn’t have to so much as smell the stuff. If she ever forgave him.
If he was ever allowed to get his body back.
A crack of thunder had the skies opening up.
Sighing in defeat, Conan made his way toward the bar. An overly intoxicated patron stumbled out the bar just as Conan reached it giving the not-child the opportunity to slide inside. Well, at least the Gods hadn’t decided to prolong his humiliation by having him struggle with the door. Standing there, just inside the door and dripping water all over the hardwood floor, Conan’s rage cooled as the weight of everything settled over him. The backs of his eyes burned, but he pushed the emotion away. He had to stay strong. He had to–
“Botchama, can you help me clear the bar?”
Fighting the urge to make himself as small as possible, Conan glanced up at the voice only to freeze as a boy with messy brown hair, shining eyes, and a very, very familiar face answered in affirmation. The cheeks might have been a bit fuller and coated with a light dusting of freckles and the smile might have been wider, but that face was one Conan was intimately familiar with. Like a ton of bricks, it hit him.
He had accidentally stumbled upon Kaitou KID’s true identity.
A loud clatter of his skateboard dropping to the floor made both KID and the older man behind the counter turn toward him. If Conan had any doubts about his deduction, they were immediately laid to rest as the thief’s poker face cracked just enough for Conan to register surprise, shock, and a bit of fear flash across his face. Then it smoothed into one of concern.
“Hey there,” KID said, “what are you doing out in this weather?”
Conan blinked hard. His chest grew tight as the emotion he had been trying so hard to suppress came bubbling to the surface. It would be KID. Of course, it would be. The thief had always been there when he needed him most, even when Conan hadn’t known it at the time. KID had always protected him. KID had always kept him safe.
KID had always been safe.
Thighter. Thighter.
Eyebrows furrowing, KID walked over and crouched down in front of him. He put his hand on Conan’s shoulder.
Thigt–
“Hey, are you okay?”
With the force of a cannonball to the chest, the weight of everything hit him all at once. Launching himself into KID’s arms, he burst into tears.
“Whh–a! Tantei–what are you–!? Are you okay!? What’s wrong!?” KID flailed and instinctively tried to pull away. Conan’s arms tightened around KID’s neck. He couldn’t lose this too.
A part of him knew that he was doing what Ran would call ‘ugly crying’ and that he should feel ashamed for breaking down so completely, and in the arms of his rival no less, but he crushed that part of him. He didn’t want to be strong right now. He didn’t want to be ashamed right now. He didn’t even want to be logical right now.
Right now, he just wanted to let himself hurt.
Arms wrapped around his back; one around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head.
A gentle voice whispered in his ear, “Meitantei.”
Conan sobbed harder. His feet left the ground as KID picked him up. He wrapped them around KID’s waist. With his face buried in the thief’s neck, Conan allowed himself to be carried deeper into the bar. KID said something to the older man before walking through a door behind the counter.
“It’s alright, I’ve got you, Meitantei, you’re safe.”
Conan wrapped himself tighter around KID. He knew.
He continued to cry as KID walked through another door and sat down on what Conan assumed was a bed. Then KID simply held him. Conan just cried and cried until the body-shaking sobs tapered down into the occasional hiccupping ones. And KID continued to hold him even after they stopped. After it was all over, Conan felt wrung out and tired and more like a child than he ever had before. He whimpered slightly as KID pulled away, but the thief shushed him gently as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began wiping Conan’s tears. The detective let it happen.
Outside, the storm raged.
He must have fallen asleep at some point because when he found himself opening his eyes again he was comfortably tucked into a soft bed. Someone, presumably KID, had changed him out of his wet clothes and into an overly large, white cotton top. Slipping out of the bed revealed that the top came down well past his knees and hands. His underwear seemed to avoid the soaking that had lost him his other clothes. For a second he just looked down at himself, contemplating if he wanted to go out and confront his internationally wanted rival looking like a shota fan’s wet dream. Then he decided he didn’t care. If KID hadn’t been turned off by him suddenly showing up, soaking wet, and literally having an epic breakdown in his arms then, Conan reasoned, he certainly wouldn’t be turned off by this.
I should probably reword that if he asks
Fuzzy socks, ones that he would never have bought for himself but was exceedingly grateful for now, kept his feet warm as he stepped from the carpet-lined room and onto the wooden floors of the hallway. Based on the sound of the storm, Conan wasn’t going ho—back to the mansion anytime soon, so he made his way toward where he assumed the bar was. His head felt clearer than it had in weeks. He felt emotionally hollow, but in that good way that means your body has purged any negative emotions and you're finally calm.
Well, relatively speaking.
Though he felt more centered, a weight still sat heavy in his stomach. Emotional exhaustion was not a concept he was familiar with as he barely ever cried (apparently not even when he was an actual kid according to his parents) so he had no idea it was so…so…exhausting.
That certainly explained why Ran always took a nap after she cried. She also got puffy eyes. He should buy her one of those eye masks you could put in the freezer for next time. It might make her more willing to hear him out when he finally told her about the whole Conan thing.
Voices coming from behind a swinging door confirmed the direction of the bar so Conan pushed his way through. KID and his accomplice stopped talking and watched as Conan trundled out from behind the bar and up to the stool directly next to KID. Here he hit a bit of a snag as the stool was tall and he was short, but KID silently picked him up and placed him on the aforementioned stool. Conan shushed the part of his brain that was still in vulnerable/needtobekeptsafe mode and made him long to be kept in the thief’s lap and started rolling up his sleeves.
A glass of water was placed in front of him.
Conan gave the man behind the bar a small smile, “Thanks.”
Finishing with his sleeves he picked up the glass and took a few sips. Deep, deep inside of him a weak spark of glee at the obvious tension in the air between the thief and his accomplice flared. There was also an air of uncertainty about what was going to happen next. KID was smart enough to know that he had been caught, that Shinichi knew who he really was, but he still wasn’t going to offer up that information until Shinichi made the first move. The accomplice (a memory of a man dressed like him speaking quietly into a mic to someone named Jii-chan while fire raged around them) tried to appear nonchalant by cleaning a glass with a white rag, but his eyes kept darting between the two boys.
Placing the glass on the countertop, Conan asked, “Have you ever felt so alone that you wonder if it would matter if you disappeared?” He kept his eyes on the glass.
He felt more than saw KID’s entire body jolt to attention. In his peripherals, Jii froze mid-glass-wipe and was now openly staring at him.
“Wha—!” KID sputtered.
“Like,” Conan continued, “if one day you decided to end it all, it wouldn’t have all that much of an impact?”
The glass slipped from Jii’s hands and hit the counter with a loud thud.
Absolute horror filled KID’s voice, “Tantei-kun…”
Conan shrugged, “Most of the time they’re just passing thoughts that I can easily push away by focusing on something else, like my detective work or trying to catch you. But, the longer I’m like this, the harder it is to not think that.”
He was suddenly spun on the stool so that he was now facing a pair of terrified indigo (or perhaps amethyst) eyes. Two large, warm hands wrapped around his own.
“You haven’t, have you? Please, Shinichi, tell me you haven’t tried.”
In the face of KID’s obvious desperation, warmth filled Conan. He was immeasurably glad he wouldn’t have to hurt this man. “No.”
KID sagged in relief. Jii let out a breath he had been holding.
Wrapping his arms around Conan, KID hauled him over until he was sitting sideways in the thief’s lap.
Conan sucked in a shuddering breath. Damn. Safe. Bastard.
“Is that why you came here tonight?”
At the question, Conan huffed out a laugh. A flash of humor at the absurdity of the situation.
“Would you believe me if I said I ended up here accidentally?”
A beat.
“Eh?”
Feeling a bit more like himself, Conan smirked at KID, “It’s true. I was just riding around and the rain started up right as I was passing by.”
It was rather fascinating to see the other boy go from normal, confused teen to mischievously amused phantom thief. A toothy grin slowly split the thief’s mouth. Conan let out a muffled yelp of surprise as he was suddenly pulled tight to KID’s chest.
“Awww, Tantei~~” KID cooed as he rubbed his face into Conan’s hair, “Even the universe wants us together!”
Yanking his rapidly reddening face away from the muscled chest, Conan snapped, “Idiot! You make it sound so dirty!”
KID’s grin somehow got wider. Then it went lascivious, “Why, whatever do you mean my dear detective?”
Said detective’s face flared hotter as he was suddenly aware that he was seated on the other boy’s lap.
A very pointed clearing of a throat abruptly reminded Conan they weren’t alone.
“I apologize for… interrupting,” Jii spoke formally, but carefully, “but might I ask how you came to be in Ekoda, Edogawa-kun? It is a pretty fair distance from Beika on nothing but a skateboard.”
All at once KID’s playfulness vanished as the seriousness of the situation reared its head again. Conan sighed. The weight was back. His eyes migrated to his hands resting in his lap.
“You know how I’ve been looking for a cure for…this?” He gestured to himself. KID nodded, “Well, Haibara finally created an antidote.”
KID and Jii blinked.
“But,” KID asked cautiously, “isn’t that a good thing?”
“It would be if I was allowed to have it.” Silence. “But apparently it’s been decided that getting my body back will be too dangerous while the Organization is still intact. So until we have a solid plan to take them down, I’m stuck like this.”
It took a moment for Conan’s words to sink in.
“What!?”
Conan flinched away from the sudden shout. KID mistook this for Conan trying to flee because he held the not-child tighter. Several emotions were playing across the thief’s face. It settled on rage as Conan continued.
“The thing is, if it had just been that, I would have understood. Heck, I probably would have agreed with them. But they went behind my back, hid it from me, and then gave the antidote to a woman who has been actively trying to get me locked out of the investigation. A woman the Organization also thinks they killed. I just—after hearing that I just—I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran.” He shot the thief a small smile, “I really did end up here by accident because of the rain. I wasn’t looking for you.”
Strong fingers gripped his chin and pulled his face up. Indigo eyes locked with his. KID’s mask was completely gone as he stared into Conan’s eyes.
“Shinichi, if you think I care about being discovered when you are hurting this much, then we are going to have words. As it is, I’m already contemplating keeping you and never giving you back.”
“KID,” Conan said tiredly.
“I’m serious, Shinichi. You’ve been through too much and survived too much, to be treated that way. If they can’t see that then they don’t deserve you.”
A lump formed in Conan’s throat. He swallowed thickly. Kami he was getting tired of crying.
“I can’t stay here,” Conan said, “I have a job to do and I can’t stop just because my feelings got hurt. Besides, you know how many people would come looking for me if I just disappeared.”
Though his face was still serious, KID’s shoulders dropped slightly. Sliding his hand from Conan’s chin to cup his cheek, KID leaned down slightly to rest their foreheads together, “I know.”
A loud crash of thunder reminded them that they still had some time before they had to go back to reality.
Back to the fight.
Back to pretending everything was okay.
For now, though, Conan would allow himself to be comforted by his thief.