Case Closed Fan Fiction ❯ Vindicated ❯ Inquiring Angel ( Chapter 10 )

Vindicated

Disclaimers: I do not nor ever will own Conan or Jimmy and co. It's a cruel sad world, isn't it?

 

I really can't get away from this story. It's so sad. I'm supposed to be writing Going Down but I can't get the words right. Ah. Well, onward then.

 

-LAST TIME ON VINDICATED-

 

Rachel thought back on his backhand wave with a smile.

“Amy, where's Conan? Tell me!”

“He didn't run back to his house.”

What was going through that head of his?

“Something's wrong. I just know something's wrong…”

“Please keep talking to me. Don't- don't leave me alone…”

His face faded in and out of Agasa's vision- until finally he was gone.

“I was… too late.”

 

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Chapter Ten

Inquiring Angel

 

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“And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him, Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.”

-Matthew 8:21-22

xxx

 

Jimmy fell in and out of wake the next several hours. Every time his mind crept too far into the realm of wake a great pain would shake it senseless again. Logic probed through his brain like fingers and spoke to him in a soft unassuming voice. His mind was in protection mode, the fingers had told him, recovering from the last several hours. It was preventing him from waking- to protect him.

 

But to protect me from what, Jimmy had asked these logical fingers. He wondered quietly if the fingers were attached to some all knowing hand. Perhaps he was speaking to God? Jimmy didn't understand- once again, Jimmy felt helpless and lost. Completely at the mercy of these strange appendages that were warning him of things his unconscious mind couldn't yet comprehend.

 

To protect you from shock, the fingers spoke again. Jimmy found the answer highly unsatisfactory.

 

He fought past the fingers. They weren't tapering his curiously. He could hear voices as he pushed past the fingers. They were soft and slowly flowing out of his head- out of his skull- and onto his forehead. They moved affectionately over his hairline and had stopped whispering to him altogether.

 

Jimmy reached up and wrapped his hand about the fingers. He was trying to get them to talk- to let him wake. And that's when he heard a woman gasp.

 

“He's awake.”

 

Jimmy looked over wearily at the red face staring over at him. She had long brown hair that flowed down over a plush pink tank top like a dying waterfall. Her young eyes were a remarkable shade of blue- a shade that made her so much older and sadder than he understood. Staring into them, Jimmy had a suddenly flash of fear. He reached up to his face touching nothing but his skin. Now why had he done that? He didn't know. It was just the way this woman looked at him- it was as if… her questioning stare caused him to want to hide his face behind something.

 

And in that instant, his hand touching his brow- Jimmy remembered.

 

“Rachel…”

 

Rachel smiled tearfully at the sound of his voice. At the mere uttering of her name in his little childish drawl. But Jimmy was less pleased with the sound of his voice.

 

He gripped his throat with little hands and then stared frozen at the little hands themselves. His mind was racing. His heart was pounding. Jimmy started to wonder if he was insane…

 

Then it all came rushing back at once, leaving Conan with his head throbbing softly as panic's memory.

 

“Conan, how are you doing, sweetheart?” said Rachel soothingly stroking his arm. She had taken Conan's actions as a sign of pain and drowsiness. Not of a man suddenly realizing he was still trapped inside the body of a child.

His eyes wandered, as eyes naturally do, around the plainness of the hospital room. He paused, breathlessly, on Richard who met his gaze with quiet acknowledgment. The elder detective sat alert only feet away from Conan's bedside. He seemed worried and truly caring of the child's welfare. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have spent time wasted in this room with Conan.

 

While his concern was touching, it was, at the same time, confusing. So Jimmy decided he would have to think back. Almost immediately he hit a wall in his mind. It was practically impenetrable.

 

Conan raised his hand again and rubbed his forehead. “What happened?”

 

Rachel bit her lip. She gripped his hand and pulled it back to his side. “Just relax, Conan,” she said.

 

Conan closed his eyes. The wall was brick, and strong. He pushed his hands against it and it wouldn't relent.

 

Rain was pattering against the window. A storm was brewing outside the hospital- foreshadowing the mistake of trying to climb the wall in his mind.

 

But Conan focused on the wall anyway. This stupid wall just wouldn't leave. He ran his arm against it and punched it with his fists. Why wouldn't it let him through?

 

“Please, Conan,” Rachel said softly. She squeezed his hand, hoping in some way to keep him from remembering.

 

Conan could smell smoke. He held his breath and pushed against the wall some more. It was getting hotter- faster.

 

Suddenly flames were everywhere. The wall had crumbled between his fingers but he couldn't see. There was a shadow in the smoke. It held out a gun. Haibara was screaming over and over through the thick fog. Conan waved through it but he couldn't find her. And then… and… Agasa.

 

Conan's eyes snapped open and Rachel couldn't suppress a heavy sob.

 

Hiroshi Agasa was dead.

 

Conan didn't know what to do. He didn't even know what to think. His brain filtered through the stages of post death trauma. He was in denial now. But being as logical as Conan was- it wouldn't be long before he reached the next step. Denial, yearning, anger, guilt, and then finally acceptance. It seemed like a horrible long road ahead of him. And he still couldn't understand it all.

 

Conan ran his hands up his face and gripped his hair. His fingers tangled about the locks, almost threatening to rip them out. He couldn't understand. It just didn't make sense at all. How could Agasa be dead?! He was alive just a few hours ago. It just didn't make sense at all.

 

Conan found his eyes starting to water, but he couldn't bring himself to cry. Crying seemed so simple. And this emotion that was ripping and tearing him up inside, crying did it no justice.

 

“Conan,” Rachel said softly moving her hand to touch him again.

Conan pulled away. “Don't touch me,” he snapped.

 

The tears were pouring now- not just his face but hers as well.

 

“Conan,” Rachel choked on the name as Conan glared up at her.

 

“Where is Agasa?!” Conan shouted at her, tears splashing down his cheeks, “Why isn't- Where did he go?! Where did you put him?”

 

Rachel moved her hand in front of her mouth. She just kept shaking her head- unable to answer him. Conan found himself frustrated by her inability to answer. He was about to shout again when something beat him to it.

”Agasa is dead, Conan,” came a voice beside him.

 

Conan whirled around to face Mister Moore- who stood unblinking in his spiteful gaze.

 

“No, he is not dead!” Conan shouted angrily, his hands curling into fists.

 

“Yes, he is,” Richard replied smoothly, unfazed by Conan's yelling.

 

“He is not! Stop saying that!”

 

“He is,” said Richard. Rachel was moving away from the hospital bed, hands still over her mouth- trembling and flinching at every word Conan managed to shriek.

 

“Shut up! He's not dead!!” Conan screamed thrusting his fists on the metal railing on his bunk. It hurt and left a ringing in the heavy air. But Conan couldn't feel the pain. Only the silence.

 

Rachel was still crying. Richard eyed her momentarily and turned his eyes back upon the hateful gaze of Conan.

 

“Agasa was-“

 

“Not was! Is! Is!” interupted Conan angrily.

 

But Richard continued unfazed, “-murdered. He was shot three-“

 

“Shut up! Stop it! He's not dead!”

 

“-times. He couldn't be revived.”

 

“No, stop!”

 

“Hiroshi is-“

 

“No!!”

 

“-inevitably…“

 

“Shut the hell up!!” Conan shrieked crumbling onto his knees and sobbing violently into the linen sheets. There was a long moment of awkward pause, the only sound being Conan's heavy sobs and approaching footsteps.

 

“I know he's dead, dammit. I know… I know…” said Conan at long last- his voice muffled by the sheets and slowly faltering.

 

Richard stood momentarily speechless. He then smiled somewhat darkly, in true acknowledgement of Conan's pain, and nodded.

 

“Good.”

 

And that was the last thing he heard, before the nurse, Conan had overlooked Rachel retrieving, gave him a shot of sedative. The room swirled about him. Colors blended together and chased their tail ends in endless spirally circles.

 

The nurse was calming Rachel down, holding her and rubbing her back. Something he was supposed to do. But he had been so angry… Guilt panged up his slowly darkening mind. Where was Jimmy Kudo now?

 

Conan turned his head and saw Richard was still looking down at him. His lips were still saying- Good. Good. Good.

 

Until finally they said, you.

 

But by that time, there was nothing left awake in Conan's mind to care.

 

xxx

 

Edogawa Conan was released out of Beika Hospital the following morning after getting a complete check up. He had calmed down considerably at that point. But he only communicated through nods or shakes of his head.

 

Conan was no longer angry at Rachel or Richard. His silent treatment was more influenced by his nausea. A bile was surging up from his stomach, slowly choking him. It was called acceptance.

 

They had reached the detective agency a little past noon. Conan wasted no time in leaving the Moores and their concern behind. He left Rachel in the living room with little less than a wave and quickly ran up to his closet like bedroom. The slamming door echoed throughout the entire house.

 

No one followed him.

 

Conan lay on his cot for hours. He had a spare set of glasses in his desk drawer and had since been playing idly with them, weaving the arms in between his fingers.

 

It was hard to believe this would be his last pair from the good doctor. It would be his last anything from him…

 

Conan fastened them to his face, true to his disguise. What else was there to do? He knew nothing but hiding. Without Agasa's guidance, Conan felt lost and confused. Should he hide? Should he run? Conan felt nothing at all. Only numb.

 

Conan loosened the red bow tie from his neck and twirled the dial to the frequency he desired.

 

“Jimmy,” Conan said softly into the bowtie listening to Hiroshi's dead voice flow over him. “How are you, Jimmy?”

 

It was then that Conan crumbled. He dropped the device and rolled over on to his side. He curled into a ball around his blankets, sheets and pillows and sobbed. The pillows muffled his pain from the outside world. Even when he screamed.

 

Doctor Hiroshi Agasa would never come back.

 

When Conan woke up, the sun was setting outside his little window. Conan rose groggily and wandered to the door of his room. He peeked out, and when seeing no one, headed out- down the stairs- and away from there.

 

It wasn't long before he was in front of his house and the remains of his neighbor's. And when staring at Hiroshi's shamble of a home, it felt so much more definite. There was police tape all around Hiroshi's gate.

 

Conan ignored it. There was a hole in the wall, one not created by the fire but rather by Hiroshi's own recklessness. Caution tape coated this area but made it in no means inaccessible.

 

The little detective was somewhat surprised by the lack of guard. It seemed that the search had all been finished hours ago.

 

But Conan was sure Haibara was not found. Conan stepped among the rubble, looking around himself and finding nothing of familiarity. The house was reduced practically to nothing but bricks and wood.

 

But that was when Conan's foot stepped on something that made a clinking sound. Conan lifted his foot from shards of broken glass and a picture frame. He knelt low, grabbing the photo by its tip and letting the rest of the glass slide slowly and gracefully on the floor.

 

The flames had chewed at it- it was covered in ash and dirt. But the people in the picture were clear. The detective boys all standing in front of Hiroshi Agasa. Conan stared in admiration at the picture… until finally nostalgia brought him back to earth. Two people in that photo were gone forever…

 

Conan closed his eyes. He hadn't even thought about Haibara these last couple of hours. Maybe she was kidnapped- being totured somewhere for information about his whereabouts. Perhaps he was playing right into their hands by coming back here. The little detective didn't know nor did he care.

 

He wanted to die at this point. He knew it was his fault that Agasa wasn't in his house right now- laughing happily- enjoying his life with Haibara and the detective boys. It was all his fault.

 

Conan held the picture tight to his chest, and fell to his knees.

 

“Hiroshi,” Conan said softly. “I'm so sorry. So very sorry.”

 

Conan suddenly heard footfalls behind him. He knew he should have panicked, but the events over the past several days had made him tired. And he really didn't care if Gin came up the sidewalk with a gun aimed at the back of his head. His nightmare seemed a bit less scary than the real world now. He was totally alone… No one was left knowing he was Jimmy. Except maybe Heiji but who was counting him anyway?

 

Conan regretfully opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the approaching person. His eyes trailed up the white shoes covered with mud and dust, to the white shirt, and the pink blazer. He couldn't bare to look her in the eyes, in case it really wasn't her.

 

“Ha…Haibara-san,” Conan whispered softly, as if afraid she might suddenly vanish.

 

But she didn't. Instead she walked closer, her face a blank slate. She stopped before him, almost tauntingly out of his reach.

 

Her hair glowed in the dying sun. Her face as pale and bleak as ever. Conan could have compared her to a heaven sent messager if in the right mind. She stood, tongue between her teeth, as if hesitating upon a question she couldn't find words to.

 

“I'm sorry, Kudo,” She said at last.

 

Haibara never got to say anymore. Conan leapt up and enveloped her in a hug so deep, she could scarely find the abilty to cry. And they mourned together- the warm night wind rustling the ruin of Agasa's memory around them.

 

To Be Continued…

Please R &R!

 

Whoo. Yeah Haibara's alive. See! I can be nice. Sometimes. :insert shifty look:

 

But yeah. Conan is going be depressed for awhile. Get used to it.

 

Give me a “whoo haa” if you are ready for Heiji to make an apperance!? Cause guess who's coming next chapter. Whoo ha!

 

Yeah okay- so moving on!

 

For Vindicated Review Responses go to the link in my profile entitled memories and there it should take you to a page consisting of links. From there click the one entitled Vindicated. And enjoy. Those that review last time were klxzz, Inu-ears, Mistress Dizzy, Crysania Fay, Jinnai, YumeTakato, windchaser90, AntiSora, Sadie Janelle, Inumaru12, Flyiwion, The Blimp Alchemist, HotPinkPenguin, and Lady Mirror. Thank you so much for your reviews. I hope you review again this chapter!

 

And remember,

With a keen eye for details, one truth will prevail!

 

Dude that's getting so old. :insert bewildered face: Ah well. Click the little button to review. Your patronage is much appreciated.