Case Closed Fan Fiction ❯ Going Down ❯ Crying Wolf ( Chapter 2 )

Going Down

Disclaimers: I do not own Case Closed/ Detective Conan. Whoo boy. Never thought I would say that, did ya?

I have to recommend that if you like to read and listen to something in the background, to listen to the song Window To The Past on the Harry Potter Soundtrack. That is what I am writing this chapter to, anyhow.

I sincerely apologize for those that find the dubbed names rather awkward or inconvenient. I'd rather not pretend to know their Japanese names when I clearly haven't seen the show in Japanese. I pray you'll all just work with me and not just push aside my story because of the names I chose to use for the characters.

I have to say I really like Richard and I've always wanted to see a bit more go on between him and Conan. In a non-yaoi sort of way, of course. This chapter will really be stressing on Richard's relationship with his daughter and with his past relationship with Conan. He'll be questioning a lot of about himself throughout the whole story but this chapter will have to be the best. Richard sticks his neck out for Conan. And Conan will be grateful.

Thank you once again for all your kind words of encouragement. I hope you enjoy the next chapter of Going Down.

-LAST TIME ON GOING DOWN-

Child detectives? That's crazy.

"One of my old colleges. He runs this company. Kasei Inc."

"Moore? The detective?"

"What's this briefcase doing in the door way?"

"But I doubt I'd need a detective for any of my mysteries…"

"Knock on wood, of course."

"My watch! I left it in Mr. Kasei-sama's office."

"What about Conan?"

"Look. Both floor 13 and 14 are lit up at the same time."

Like a monster.

"Oh my God."

Rachel passed out.

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Chapter 2:

Crying Wolf

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"Few things can help an individual more than to place responsibility on him, and to let him know that you trust him."
-Booker T. Washington

---

A small wooden frame made out of popsicle sticks sat unmoved and untouched. The picture in it made sacred. It was one of the few pictures of Conan in the whole house.

Who to call? Who to tell? This boy was a ghost in every way. Kudo was his only relative they knew about.

The stain of old crayola markers carefully incised the rim of each pitiful stick so that it radiated a eerie brilliance. The boy was only eight and wasn't the best of artists; but his frame had the most professional look in the whole class.

Rachel made Conan give it to me on Father's day. She made him give it to me. It- It was never for me.

In the picture he was smiling. It was a quick and cheap film where the pictures were instant. White plastic surrounded his face. It sealed him in his box of glue and sticks. In the picture he smiled.

Does he have a father, I wonder? I never bothered to ask him anything.

Should Conan have just jumped out of the frame, Richard would have nothing and everything to say to him. It had only been a day and suddenly this picture felt more alive then he did. Then Richard did. He stared and stared until the picture was burned into his eyelids.

How can he smile?

He laid out the newspaper on the desk filled of his success. It shown his first failure, in ages, on the cover page. A smiling picture of Conan. And a caption below.

Edogawa Conan(Far Right), Age Eight. Victim.

Beside him the other faces he had failed. Finally, the last picture of the eight, the desolation of that elevator. The monster that took those people away. The Satan. The Demon. The worthless machine that decided to drop. And it's unjustified caption.

Kasei Inc.'s faulty elevator. The aftermath. (Far Left)

How can he smile?

It was a notable accident. It was enough of a shocker that it reached the newscasters before they published the Sunday's brew. An elevator that didn't work and fell. Technology turning against people. That was perfect for their front page.

Richard was beginning to despise the Press.

"It shouldn't end like this, Meguire."

"I'm sorry, Moore. But this was an isolated incident, completely aside from your department. Not a homicide."

The buzz from the cell phone's transmission rung in his ear. He was being shut out.

"I can't just abandon the thought. I- I can't let what happened to Conan go unpunished."

"Richard. It was a defective elevator. That's all."

"No! That's not all!"

His voice was shaking.

"I want to see the crime scene, Meguire."

"There is no crime scene."

His voice was harsh but settling. Richard began to feel ill.

"Look. I know this is hard on you, Richard. Being it was Conan in the elevator, after all. But I really don't have any authority over what happened. And you have no business trying to figure out a crime that didn't exist."

The silence was overpowering.

How can he still smile?

"Alright, Meguire."

"Alright?"

"Yes. I just wanna know- Kasei's company. It is a producer and maintenance company of 'Pa Chink' right?"

"Uh- Yes. What does that have to-"

"Alright. Night, Meguire."

He touched the frame delicately with his pointer finger. One of the popsicle sticks loosened and broke off a little from the other mass.

Made him wonder if he had termites.

---

She usually woke to sunshine and daisies. To birds chirping and light heart of living another day. But today the room was dark and her heart was heavy.

Her head still spun and her memory was elapsing back to the night which she was still awake.

Why was her heart so heavy?

"Conan!"

She sat up; drenched in cold sweat as she searched the dankness and shadow for a face. She found not the one she was looking for.

"Rachel. Thank gawd your awake."

"Serena… What are you doing here?"

She brushed back her short hair behind one ear and frowned. Rachel didn't think she had ever seen Serena look so serious before. Her face was as pallid as the whitewash walls of Rachel's room.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're okay now."

Her face was twisted in a mix of perplexity and sorrow. She looked more of the one that needed to be bedded.

Maybe it pains her to be talking about someone other then herself for once.

"Where's Conan?"

Her face was hard to read now. She made sort of a gargling noise in her throat but gave no clear answer. But that was all Rachel needed.

Rachel was out of bed and to the door before Serena could shout.

She hadn't been undressed from yesterday. Her clothes rank with sweat and age. Rachel could not care.

The covers were thrown. Serena dodged about them. She tried to reach for the girl but missed.

Rachel took flight down the stairs just as her father reached her room.

"Rachel!"

They called for her. She let them call.

"Rachel!"

He can't be. He can't be.

"Rachel! Rachel, please!"

Rachel paused in the hallway, only one shoe slipped on. The laundry was still overtaking the kitchen floor. She walked to it… her heart failing her.

Richard found his daughter, draped over the rim of the basket, weeping. A small shirt was in hand. She buried her face into it. Refused to let go of it's memory.

"Rachel…"

Serena took refuge in a corner of the kitchen.

"… Conan isn't dead. He's just hurt. Hurt bad," Richard paused, his words trying to be comforting, "He's in a coma, Rachel."

She didn't look up. Her sobs lessening in their ferocity. The white shirt covered her face; sucking in her sorrow.

Richard had no words left to speak. And for once he turned to leave without a cocky laugh.

"Dad."

Richard listened.

"Dad. Solve this. You have to solve this."

He sighed and turned back to his daughter's collapsing form,

"Rachel… It wasn't a murder…"

"Yes. Yes it was."

Her voice was firm and filled with a boiling rage. She lowered Conan's tear soaked shirt and glared up at her father.

"Someone killed Conan, Dad! Someone did! I know they did. It wasn't an accident! Accidents don't happen to…Conan…"

She was about to say Kudo.

Her eyes frightened the detective. He withdrew just as her head lowered again.

Why was she about to say Kudo?

The silence in the room was deadly. Serena was whimpering in the corner. She didn't like it quiet.

No. She was about to say Jimmy.

"Shorty isn't dead, alright, Rachel?" Serena spoke, her voice shaking.

Rachel looked up. Serena was crying. Why was she crying…?

"Conan- the midget." Serena teared up some more, "He'll be fine. He's just playing a nasty prank on us. You know kids. They love to play jokes. He'll wake up any day now."

She laughed, her eyes still filled with tears. Her chocking laughter quickly broke into stifled lamentation. She fell upon Rachel and cried some more.

"He'll wake up. He has to…"

They held each other silently. Moore stood alone in the doorway; laundry scattered across the floor.

---

Richard picked up his cell phone once more, and dialed a new number.

Conan's face was still smiling at him.

"Yes. This is Mr. Moore. Uh huh. I'd like to call about the Elevator incident. Uh huh. Yes. I believe…"

Richard pushed the fallen popsicle stick back into place.

"I believe that was a murder."

Conan never stopped smiling. Richard started to smile too.

"I'd like to investigate it, if you please."

For you, Conan.

To Be Continued…

Please R + R!

Well, it's not as long as the other chapter mostly because it was just about Richard and Rachel's comprehension of the whole thing.

Hopefully the Detective Boys/ Junior Detective League will be in the next chapter. Either that or the chapter after that.

Poor Serena. I kind of know how she feels. Thrown into a situation in which your friend is suffering and you have no idea how to comfort them. I hope I portrayed her well. I kind of dislike her in the series. I hope that didn't seep through. :insert sweatdrop:

If you can tell me what Pa Chink is I'll give you 10 cyber cookies and a slice of my cyber cake.

And now, please review! Don't fight over the purple button now. J/K!