#Kat's Fanfics

[blackcat2907]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Hades (Video Game 2018) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luke Castellan & Nico di Angelo, Luke Castellan & Dusa (Hades Video Game), Luke Castellan & Achilles (Hades Video Game), Luke Castellan & Zagreus (Hades Video Game) Characters: Luke Castellan, Nico di Angelo, Dusa (Hades Video Game), Hades (Percy Jackson), Achilles (Percy Jackson), Zagreus (Hades Video Game), Kronos mentioned - Character Additional Tags: Everyone Has Issues, Luke Castellan Needs a Hug, Mentioned Kronos (Percy Jackson), Kronos Being an Asshole (Percy Jackson), Manipulative Luke Castellan, Nico di Angelo Needs a Hug, Talking To Dead People, Therapy Series: Part 1 of War and Death Summary:

In which Luke is thrust into a new life and teaches Nico.

@yonemurishiroku Enjoy!

[katreal-fic]

Defragmentation: Sequel to [Divide by Zero] 

Summary: 

A gamebreaking glitch tore the game session to shreds, right before they reached the end. Dirk Strider was already dead at the time. Temporarily. Which left him to revive in the aftermath. As the Prince of Heart, he doesn't have much experience putting souls back together, only breaking them, but at this point he's the only one left who can.

Starting with his splinter's brother Dave because like hell is Dirk going to raise a child and fuck it up all over again. He wouldn't trust any version of himself with that responsibility because he'd already failed.

[the-officially-kat]

“You're The Ultimate, You” A Plance Fanfic

I should really be going to bed ‘cause it’s nearly 12:30 AM but I just finished this and had to share it ‘cause it made me happy

Best read when listening to the song Ultimate by Lindsay Lohan

AO3 Link Here

“ “She’s one of my best friends, hands down the smartest person I know, the definition of ‘extraordinary’ and,” Lance looked over at Pidge and winked. “She’s the ultimate.”. “

Pidge knew that something was up. And said something involved her.

Her only evidence was that, one: her only four friends in high school were very obviously keeping a secret from her. Two: it had something to do with their band (which was named ‘Voltron’ after an entire week of arguing during their freshman year) since she found out that they added a surprise song at the end of their set. And three: on the night of the band’s final senior year performance, they all insisted that Pidge stand near the front and off to the side all throughout the show.

Additional evidence was that Lance seemed to be the most insistent about it.

Putting it all together the most obvious answer was that they were going to serenade her. But other than a very belated ‘Happy Birthday’ jingle, she couldn’t fathom why they would do that. Maybe as a thank you? She did help out with the tech every now and then when they wanted the show to have a bit of ‘Razzle Dazzle’ (Lance’s words, not hers). But again, why would they do that? They thanked her for it all the time so why do it through a song?

Upon hearing the additional evidence, her older brother Matt teasingly suggested that Lance was the one that wanted to serenade her. She just rolled her eyes at him.

Sure, it would be unbelievably fantastic if the guy she’s had a crush on since middle school liked her back but there was no way on Earth, Neptune, Pluto, or any other planets she could name off the top of her head, that he would.

And now, right at the end of the band’s show, she still refused to entertain the thought.

As the cheers from their fellow students died down enough, Lance spoke into his microphone, “Thank you, thank you! Sadly the night’s come to an end.” He paused to give a dramatic pout to the booing crowd. “But! Before we go and suffer through finals, we, or rather, I would like to sing one more song. Keith, if you wouldn’t mind,” Lance took his guitar off him and handed it to Keith who had just finished putting aside his keyboard.

Lance turned back to the sea of students in front of him, “And I’d like to dedicate this song to a very special lady.”.

Pidge crossed her arms over her chest. She knew that she promised to stay in the crowd but she didn’t think she could handle watching Lance sing to his new crush of the week. And she was about to walk out of the gymnasium until she heard Lance continue,

“She’s one of my best friends, hands down the smartest person I know, the definition of ‘extraordinary’ and,” Lance looked over at Pidge and winked. “She’s the ultimate.”.

Pidge couldn’t believe what was happening.

Keith and Allura began the song on their electric guitars and Hunk followed almost immediately on the drums. Pidge recognised the song from a movie she’d seen not too long ago. But she wasn’t focusing on that.

Lance started to sing.

“You're the kind of friend who always bends when I'm broken,

Like remember when,

You took my heart and put it back together again.”.

‘He isn’t…. Is he?’ Pidge thought, staring wide eyed at him.

“I've been wasting time with other girls,

But now it's over,

Let me tell you why,

I'm through,

I've meet someone new,

Who's just like you.”.

Lance pointed right at Pidge on that last line. Her jaw proceeded to drop.

“You're it,

You're the ultimate,

It's automatic,

I'm sure of it,

No lie,

So don't even try,

To tell me that you're not the gal,

‘Cause I've been waiting all my life,

For someone just like you,

But you're it,

You're the ultimate, you.”.

Lance was still looking at her and she prayed that the mediocre school stage lights didn’t highlight the burning blush on her face.

“You're the kind of gal who's hands in mine send shivers up and down my spine,

You took my heart and put it back together again.”.

Lance McClain was serenading her. Lance McClain was serenading her. Lance. McClain. Was. Serenading. Her.

“You're the kind of gal that blows my mind,

But now it's my turn,

You've been right in front of me,

Everything I need,

Why didn't I see.”.

Finally a smile broke out on her face as she felt the excitement of the situation bubble in her chest. All of the daydreams she used to have about Lance liking her back and confessing to her didn’t compare to this (very real, she pinched herself to check) moment.

“You're it

You're the ultimate

It's automatic.

I'm sure of it

No lie

So don't even try

To tell me that you're not the gal

‘Cause I've been waiting all my life

For someone just like you

But you're it

You're the ultimate, you.”.

As Allura and Keith went crazy on the guitar solo, or duo really, Lance set aside his microphone and reached out a hand to her. Pidge took one look at his shining blue eyes and contagious grin and flushed cheeks and took his hand without any further hesitation. He pulled her up on the stage and they stood in the middle, still holding hands and over half the school cheering at the two of them.

“If I haven’t been obvious enough already, I really like you, Pidge!” Lance said to her over the noise of the music and the crowd.

Pidge laughed. “I do too!”.

And as if she hadn’t been obvious enough already, Lance let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a sigh of relief. “I’m glad! And Pidge, every word I sang is the truth, I’ve been an idiot for not realizing it sooner!”.

“You haven’t been an idiot, I’m just happy that you feel the same!”.

“You're it,

You're the ultimate,

It's automatic,

He’s sure of it,

No lie,”.

“So you wanna go steady with me?” Lance asked.

“So don't even try

To tell him that you're not the gal.”.

“Go steady?” Pidge laughed. “That’s so corny!.”

“You're it,

You're the ultimate,

It's automatic,

He’s sure of it,

No lie,”.

Lance shrugged. “Totally! So, will you?”.

“So don't even try

To tell him that you're not the gal,”.

Pidge thought that her smile was going to break off of her face. “Of course!”. Lance’s grin matched her’s and the pair embraced each other.

“‘Cause he’s been waiting all his life

For someone just like you,”.

While they were still hugging, Lance took the opportunity to whisper in her ear, “Can I kiss you?”.

Pidge giggled, “You better.”.

“But you're it,

You're the ultimate, you.”.

They parted from their embrace and Pidge rested her hands on his hips while Lance cupped her face and leaned down. When their lips met, everyone in the gymnasium erupted in cheers and whistles. One person near the back even yelled ‘Finally!’.

The kiss was everything either of them could have hoped for. And they both thanked their lucky stars that it wouldn’t be their last.

“You're it,

You're the ultimate, you~”.

[darling-miss-sunshine-blog]

I finished writing chapter one of that Princess Tutu fanfic I mentioned yesterday (link here) and I wanted to show you guys a couple of scenes from it:

(The first chapter isn’t much but I wanted to introduce the characters and more will be revealed along the way)

(Also, feedback is appreciated on whether it actually sounds interesting or not or if I made them sound boring in any way or whatever)

It was the first day of spring and his Highness Prince Siegfried wouldn’t be anywhere else but outside. The young royal ran around on the grass and played with a stray cat while his knight Lohengrin sat in the shade of a giant tree. They often did this when the winter went away and the flowers began to bloom again. It was quite peaceful. Siegfried picked the cat up in his arms and walked over to Lohengrin, deciding to take a break and sit beside him.

Siegfried set the cat on his lap and started to pet it. “I wonder if he ever gets lonely...” He mused.

“Who?” Lohengrin asked.

“This cat. Do you think he’s lonely?”.

“Why would he be? You play with him on many days of the week.”.

Siegfried lightly shook his head. “No, no. I mean, do you think he seeks a companionship with another cat?”.

“How would I know, my prince, I don’t speak feline.” Lohengrin smiled.

Siegfried laughed and held the cat up in front of Lohengrin. “But you can see it in his eyes! The poor thing needs another kitty in his life!”. Lohengrin began to laugh loudly as the prince then gave the cat a hug and finally set it free. Siegfried fell backwards onto the grass. “It’s a beautiful day... Why don’t we go down to the lake?”.

Lohengrin did his best to compose himself. “Shouldn’t you be tending to future kingly duties? You are going to be crowned this summer.”.

“Ah!” The prince waved at him. “I know most of it anyway. And besides, it can wait another hour or two.”. He turned his head and saw the look on Lohengrin’s face. Siegfried sat back up. “All right, all right. One quick visit to the lake and I promise you, my dear friend, that I will tend to any duties I need to when we return.”.

Lohengrin nodded in agreement and stood up, then holding his hand out to help the prince stand. He gratefully took it and the two of them set off to the stables.

When the prince and the knight arrived at the lake they saw a young woman sitting up in the middle of the crystal clear water, coughing and sputtering and attempting to wipe said water away from her eyes. Before Lohengrin could tell him to stay back in case this was a trap of some sort, Siegfried was already rushing over to the young woman.

“Are you all right, miss?!” Siegfried said, helping her up.

The young woman looked up and her eyes widened before a delighted smile broke out on her face. “Oh! Hello!”. She could feel her cheeks heating up as he looked at her.

Siegfried returned her smile. “Hello to you too, miss. Are you injured at all?”.

“No! No, I’m fine, just a little damp.”.

Lohengrin kept in a laugh. It seemed like an understatement to him. She looked drenched, even from a distance. Her strawberry blonde hair was still hanging over her eyes, like she couldn’t be bothered to brush it past. And her fluttery white dress clung to her. Lohengrin kept a hand on his sword and looked around to see if he could find anything or anyone else suspicious. So far nothing but he’d be a terrible right hand knight if he let his guard down for even a second.

Siegfried helped the girl to dry land and Lohengrin found it odd that her legs wobbled with every step, almost as though she had never walked a day in her life. And although he didn’t trust her, the knight decided to be a gentlemen and take off his cloak and offer it to the young woman to keep herself warm at least. He held it out to her and she didn’t actually notice until Siegfried took it from him, thanking him of course, and wrapped it around her.

[jocelyncarters]

these next couple of chapters for "Against All Odds" are so much fun to write

more Cora, more Archie/Geppetto goodness

and i might have to up the rating. take that how you will

[katreal-fic]

The final battle against Robo-Jack and Pimp-Jack goes about as expected, until it doesn't. Dave hates time-travel.

[katreal-fic]

Monofell: Dawn of the First Day

Ominious beginnings, Senseless ramblings,

Time. Running. Out. Foreshadowed madness, Theoretical scenarios, Too many questions, And a little spark of inspiration.

Day 7: [Redacted]

Monofell belongs to @pc-doodle / @monofell-au

The Writer does not claim canonicity in any way. 

This is the final chapter! Thanks for sticking with me!

Previous | Fin

How curious.

It...was silent.

Sweet, comforting silence. The haze was gone. I felt myself relaxing, a ripple traveling through my guiding light. Uncoiling. The bright roaring strength...slipped away, crumbling back to dust under the weight of death. Leaving it weaker, but burning clean again. I cupped it in my hands, feeling that fluttering warmth beating back the numbness that chilled my fingers.

You don’t quite belong here do you?

I suppose you never did.

It spoke to me, part of that darkness that surrounded me. A distorted smile, thoughtful. A myriad of amorphous arms crossed in interest. The void stared into me, and I felt no fear as I stared back.

The royals’ little rose.

The hidden thorn, buried in the lion’s paw.

Quite the soul you’ve stolen for yourself.

The light thrummed in my palms, warm and inviting and loving. Stolen? No. It belonged to me.

With such strength, you could start over again, in fact,

Come now, you can’t be satisfied with that ending,

You wouldn’t still BE here if you were.

A choice loomed before me. One option greyed out. But the choice was there. The power--soul?--between my palms warmed me. But I could feel the nudge.

Back there was nothing. Cold. Numb. Lost. Confusion. Frustration. Loneliness.  So intense I’d thrown myself from the path rather than continue without progress. Doomed by a locked door and claustrophobic caverns.

But. The idea of leaving it--this--the game--unfinished. Did not sit well with me.  The idea of staying here, with the color leeched from my body--did I even have a body? I could feel the light in my hands but also in my chest but also enveloping me, but I felt so--off, insubstantial, disconnected. The glass had splintered and broken and I’d fallen into the screen, forever barred from an empty world just beyond my reach. I could feel it, the things behind me I’d been running from…

They were still here. Somewhere. I hadn’t escaped. I could feel it resonating in the void. No escape. Only a reprieve. And the other method I’d grown to rely on was gone...unless…

The void chuckled at my questioning *Check.

Not here, I’m afraid.

You’ll find nothing here.

Only lose that which you’ve gained.

The light shuddered. It yearned to go back. I could feel it in the faint flutter of the weak, but oddly pure flame. It wasn’t ready to stop. It wasn’t ready to surrender to the all encompassing vacuum around us.

It had been my guide. Maybe it was a guide even now.

You could reset it all.

Start over.

There is a way beyond the door.

I’m sure you could figure it out, given enough time.

And you have all the time in the world.

So many games to play.

Do you think you can win?

The void laughed at me, delighted as I made my choice.

                       Chara! You’ve got to stay determined!

The voice called from my past

                      You are the hope of humans and monsters!

Pity you didn’t save. You’ll have to start from the beginning again.

The light pulsed in the darkness.

I had to go forward.

Oh. You’ve fallen down, haven’t you?

Have I?

“Oh no--oh no no no.”

It hurt enough to be true. My body ached, but not enough for me to really care.

“I--I remember--”

Waxy petals beneath my cheek. Pollen filled my nose and lungs as I gasped for breath.

“Y-you killed me”

Buttercups.

I picked up a broken stick. The glowing door burned in my mind. The void smiled back at me, the glass cracked.

“S-stay back!”

Little white pellets surrounded the trembling flower.

Maybe even the flower had wanted to play.

Okay.

This is just a game.

I just needed to figure out how to win.

At least I knew the rules now.

  Playing the game

                               Taking your turn

         Some children lose

                                              Some children learn

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 =)

[katreal-fic]

Monofell: Dawn of the First Day

On the First Day of Chara, Doodle gave to me...

A little spark of inspiration.

I don’t know if Doodle’d be okay with me doing this. But...well...here we are. This is just my own little attempt to fill in the blanks between the panels.

Day 1: The Flower

Monofell belongs to @pc-doodle / @monofell-au

Next

Oh. You’ve fallen down, haven’t you?

Have I?

It hurt enough to be true. My body ached, but not enough for me to really care.

Light filtered in through my closed eyelids. I finally peeled them open. It shone from far, far above me, reflecting and refracting through the floating motes of dust that drifted in and out of my vision. Had my fall kicked them up?

Had I even fallen?

Or did I just...wake up?

It felt surreal. I lifted my hand, reaching out and grasping for the tiny yellow orbs. Maybe they weren’t actually dust. Maybe they were fairies, dancing on a wind I couldn’t feel against my skin. My fingers curled around nothing.

Nothing.

My arm flopped back to the ground. Something crumpled beneath it. I turned, rolling onto my side. Curious.

Yellow. Everything was yellow. Fingers curled around tiny petals.

Suddenly it made sense.

It wasn’t fairies.

It wasn’t even dust.

It was just pollen. Pollen from the buttercups crushed beneath my body. Pollen that hung everywhere, breathed in every breath, clinging to my sweater in an unsightly yellow smear.

...How boring.

My hand jerked, smushing the tiny flower in my fist.

Buttercups.

I didn’t want to be there anymore.

So I left.

I forced my aching body up. The large cavern seemed to shrink around me. Sharpened into a single point. A single door.

“Howdy!”

I blinked. Between me and the door there was a splotch of black against the yellow. Petals uncurled as I watched, revealing a round white face.

“That’s one nasty fall. At least… you don’t seem hurt.”

It looked nervous. But almost hopeful. A small smile marred the smooth white surface. Veined black leaves fidgeted, curled inward as I stepped forward.

“Well--welcome to the Underground--”

It was pretty. Much prettier than the buttercups that littered the room around me.

“There’s a couple things you should know down here--”

Such a pretty flower shouldn’t be left alone in a boring place like this.

Before I realized, I was reaching for it.

“As a human you have--what are you--”

What do you do with flowers?

I picked it. Pulling it up by the stem. I didn’t want to leave it here. Not alone.

It went limp in my hands.

I stared down at the now silent flower. I felt the grey petals between my fingers. Soft and smooth. The once smiling face twisted, cracked. And then shattered under my probing touch.

I didn’t feel a thing other than disappointment.

How boring.

Beautiful things could be so fragile.

I carried the stem through the door in my arms. I wasn’t going to leave it in there.

Not with the buttercups.

End of Day One.

[katreal-fic]

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck:  Chapter  3

Detective Conan / Magic Kaitou fanfic.

Summary:

A chance encounter in Tropical Land has Kaito taking the APTX instead. Shinichi doesn’t quite realize what he’s getting himself into when he promises to repay the favor.

The original version of this story can be found on ff.net. This is an updated one I started, but never finished. This is being posted at @ginshi-chan ‘s request!

x-x-x

“Good morning!”

The chipper greeting had Shinichi’s eye twitching as he entered Agasa’s kitchen the next morning.

…No. It was too damn early for humans.

He ignored everything else and went straight for the alluring aroma of the coffee pot.

With, the prospect of caffeine slowly prodding his brain into a state where he could bring himself to care about anything less than a corpse, Shinichi finally became aware of the bright humming filling the room. He tossed Kuroba a dirty look over the rim of his steaming mug, but the boy continued to ignore him. He was completely focused on building a—Shinichi blinked, was that a house of cards?

And not just the standard pyramid one usually created with playing cards. A goddamn house. That took up the entire table. Shinichi knew Kuroba had a deck of cards on him at the amusement park, but there was more than 52 cards making up that building just from a quick glance at it.

“Are you about ready to rejoin the human race, Kudou?” One small hand flourished dramatically, just as the other carefully placed an ace of spades nearly completely vertically, without any visible support. “As endearing as your deadpan stare is, it doesn’t make for the most interesting conversation.”

“I haven’t even finished my first cup.” Shinichi grumbled, tugging one of the two chairs back from the table, away from the mad sculpture of cardstock forming in front of him. He sat down, nursing the steaming cup of coffee. “Didn’t sleep well.”

And the reason why had the nerve to be sitting so innocently across the table from him. Waking up to find him gone, the window wide open and no indication of a rope to climb…

Shinichi had seen too many bodies. He’d thought Kuroba’d been handling it well enough, teasing and joking, and thinking about the future. But…

A tear streaked face, lit from behind by the moon’s light—and still that ever present smile. Worrying incessantly that he hadn’t made a mistake leaving the boy alone last night…

“After yesterday, who could?” The boy hummed another bar of his song, folding a nine of hearts carefully to add another layer to his card mansion. Actually…Shinichi tilted his head, looking at the shape carefully… at the sprawling western inspired design. The hint of steep roof looked familiar.

“…Is that my house?”

“Yep! I had a pretty good view of it from the roof.” Kuroba stood up on his chair, looking down at the structure with a critical eye, “Hm. Can’t quite seem to get the angle right.”

“Where did you even find all those cards?” Shinichi asked incredulously as he produced yet another box, although this one had a floral print backing, rather than the more or less geometric pattern the others seemed to share. Kuroba perked up, seeming delighted to respond to his bewildered audience before Shinichi just shook his head, “You know what, I don’t even wanna know.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Whatever.”

Two more cups of coffee, a stupefied Agasa sticking his head into the kitchen before fleeing to his workshop, and the basic shape of the roof later—Shinichi finally felt like he was ready to face the day.

“You need clothes.”

The boy paused, looking pointedly down at the oversized shirt he was drowning in, cinched around his waist like a tunic with the tie from a bathrobe, and then back to Shinichi, sticking his nose into the air with an affronted sniff, “I’ll have you know, this style is very IN right now. Very fashionable with the kids.”

“Yes, yes.” The detective rolled his eyes, dismissing the sarcasm with a half-hearted shrug. Perhaps he was wrong about everything being an act—the childish show for the nurse had been grating, but this…playful nonsense was much easier to roll with. It would take more observation, to be sure, but some people were just like that. Case in point being his mother.  “The spitting image of a dashing young idol.”

He considered the clock on the wall, inwardly wincing at the late hour. He technically had class today, but by the time he made it to school, it’d be well into 2nd period and…he remembered the number of missed calls and text notifications he’d woken up to this morning. He’d been too caffeine deprived to even want to process the implications then.

He would rather face Ran’s wrath…later. And not around Sonoko, who would cackle and egg Ran on the entire time. While the presence of a teacher might spare him during class, once lunch hit…

“Hm, but I do concede the point.” Kuroba nodded graciously, before dissolving into a fit of giggles, shedding the snobby facsimile as smoothly as Shinichi’s mother ever had when she decided to screw with confident solicitors who saw the ditzy actress Kudou Yukiko and her shut-in novelist husband and thought easy money. “Eh, I did have a little cash on me yesterday—but I think using my bank card would be problematic. ‘Sides, I don’t have anything now. Ya want me to go out looking like this?”

Shinichi waved it off, “I’ve got it covered. Just let me see if I can find something in the attic that’ll fit you.”

x-x-x

“Shinichi-niichan?”

“Shinichi-niichan, look at me!” The voice sounded off, but Shinichi looked up from his book anyway, just in time to see Kuroba come skipping out of the changing room in a frilly pink monstrosity. With matching pink bows weaved through his messy brown hair.

“Oi, what the heck Kuroba—”

The boy laughed at him, twirling in the center of the men’s changing room, pink frilled dress flaring with the movement. “Don’t I look pretty, Shinichi-niichaaaan~?”

“Goddamn it Kuroba!” Shinichi’s face was red at he knew it. He was beginning to think Kuroba enjoyed flustering him. Thank god no one else was here. “When did you even pick that up!?”

They hadn’t even gone near the women’s department!

“I thought it suited me.” Fabric swished, “What d’ya think? It’s the perfect disguise! No one would ever guess—”

“Hell. No.” Shinichi was looking anywhere but there, reaching down to pick up his book which had tumbled from his hand during his shock, “Damn it, lying is bad enough, I am not going to pretend you are a girl too!”

“…mou, you’re no fun.”

The detective rapidly shook his head, feeling the heat rise in his face as he remembered that. Goddamn Kuroba, looking so innocently concerned at him where the boy—now dressed in sane and fitting jeans and a tee-shirt—walked next to him.

“You don’t have to call me that.” Shinichi grumbled, adjusting his grip on the various shopping bags. They’d hit up a couple stores, and despite Kuroba’s…shenanigans it had been a pretty productive day. Several sets of clothing, a pair of shoes, as well as various hygiene products required to make his mostly empty house decent for a guest…and best of all, no cases. Given his usual luck, one of the shoppers would have dropped dead in the middle of a store and he’d have a murder case on his hands.

“It’s not for you, niichan.” The boy skipped ahead, spinning as he did so to wag a finger back in the detective’s direction, “You aren’t my only audience. Me addressing you as usual isn’t normal for our perceived roles. Differences draw attention, and attention means people remember.”

Kuroba grinned, crossing his hands behind his head, continuing to walk backwards, “I’m not naïve enough to think I can slip through without making a ripple in your life. Might as well do my best to give people what they want to see in public, ne, niichan?”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Heh. It’s a performance, niichan. I’m a magician. This is what I do.” The boy finally turned to face forward, spreading his arms as he balanced on the curb of the sidewalk as if he was on a balance beam, “You’re a detective, you get to be all broody and think and figure things out. I’m supposed to be the one to make sure people don’t look close enough to notice there’s anything to figure out.”

Shinichi nodded, watching the boy’s back thoughtfully, fitting the pieces of what he’d suspected into the confirmed column. He hadn’t actually seen any magic—but hadn’t he created a hypothesis after discovering Kuroba Toichi’s profession?

“By all means then, continue with your performance.” Shinichi found himself saying, glancing away from the boy and at the surrounding houses. Ah, good. There was Agasa’s square home; the next gate would be his. “Just don’t feel obligated. You don’t need to act for me.”

“I act for my own mother, Kudou.” The high cheerful tone slipped—or was it a slip? It seemed to deliberately drop, sounding closer to the normal speaking voice he’d been using at Agasa’s in the morning. “Life is a performance. When you think like that, wouldn’t you find it difficult to stop?”

And then it was gone, Kuroba skipping ahead with all the enthusiasm of his apparent age. The higher pitched tone that Shinichi was beginning to associate with his public persona ringing out over the pavement, “Ne, ne, niichan, this is it right? Woooow, the gate is huge.”

“A-ah, yes.” Damn, in a way he was beginning to second guess taking this case. Just who the hell was Kuroba Kaito? At the same time, even beyond the unsolved crime behind his shrinking, he was turning into quite the little mystery himself. Most people were boringly straightforward once Shinichi figured them out, he wondered if that would be the case this time.

Shinichi, shuffled his bags to free up a hand, moving to search his blazer’s pocket for his keys—and then stopped as Kuroba cheerfully pushed the gate open, continuing his way inside. Had he just forgotten to lock the gate this morning? He thought back, quickly shuffling through the events of the morning. They’d gone from Agasa’s to his house to search for a set of his old clothes that Kuroba would fit. It’d been locked then. After finally finding something—“why the heck do you have so many suits, Kudou? Sheeesh.”—they’d headed out, and he’d…

He had locked it.

“Oh! Hello! Are you here looking for Shinichi-niichan?”

…his heart sank into his chest, wallowing in a pit of dread. He tugged on his sleeve, eying the watch the motion revealed. He hadn’t thought they’d taken that long. It was a Saturday, meaning half-days, but still—

“Oh I’ve never seen you around before!”

He could easily hear Ran’s voice from the entry way. Of course. She had a spare key. He’d known she would hunt him down after school. She always did when he skipped for a case, but he thought they’d have more time. They hadn’t even hashed out a background yet!

“Shinichi-niichan’s gonna be taking care of me for a while! How’d you get in here, neechan? Are you his giiiiiirlfriend?”

Ran’s stuttering denials had him snickering despite his dread. Kuroba didn’t seem to miss a beat.

“I’m supposed to be the one to make sure people don’t look close enough to notice there’s anything to figure out.”

Maybe he should just stop worrying and let Kuroba do his job. Taking a breath, Shinichi finally stepped through the gate, pulling it closed behind him with a clang. He could see Ran at the door, her school bag set aside and leaning against the porch. She was kneeling to put herself at eye level with the chattering boy, her face mainly hidden from him by her hair. If Shinichi knew her at all, that’s because she was blushing. He couldn’t help but smirk.

Kuroba stopped and turned, waving down at the drive at him enthusiastically, “Shinichi-niichan! There’s a pretty lady here for you!”

Ran’s head shot up, the faint red dusting her cheeks suddenly turned as bright as a tomato. She scrambled to her feet, smoothing the skirt of her school uniform as she tried to muster her cherry red face into the same intimidating glare she’d likely been preparing all day.

…and Shinichi just couldn’t take it seriously. He smiled at her, raising his free hand in a small wave, keys jingling. “Yo, Ran.”

“Shiiiiiniiiichiii…”Her fists clenched and she stepped forward, only to stop and look down at Kuroba who was doing a good impression of a confused kid, looking back and forth between the two of them with a bewildered expression. Ran took a deep breath, and then released it, looking up at him again but her fists uncurled. Oh good, she didn’t quite look like she wanted to pummel him anymore. That was always nice. “Why did you run off like that? I tried calling—I even tried visiting, but the lights were out and the gate locked, and even Agasa said he hadn’t seen you. And the you don’t show up to school—”

“Sorry, sorry, it was my fault.” He continued up the path, hefting the bags and then tilting his head toward the house, “These things are heavy so at least let me take them inside.”

“Lemme help, Shinichi-niichan!” Kuroba bounced over tugging some of the lighter bags out of his hands, “They’re mine, so I should go put them away!”

What? They hadn’t decided on a room for Kuroba, he didn’t know where anything in the house was. And no—those were his excuse and Kuroba was his—

…and he was gone. Leaving Shinichi and Ran alone on the porch.

“Shinichi. Explain.” The girl crossed her arms, “Where were you? And who is that boy?”

“Er…ah…” Damn. Remember what Kuroba had fed the nurse, it would work well enough. “He’s—ah—the reason I was home late last night, Ran. I forgot I’d agreed to pick him up. His parents asked if I could watch him while they are away—”

“You taking care of a child, Shinichi?” Ran’s disbelieving stare only ruffled his feathers further, “Why don’t I believe you?”

“What?! I can be responsible!”

“Yes! About a case! Not about people! If something like this had happened you should have told me! I bet you don’t even know his name--!”

Her voice was rising, bringing her finger up to point accusingly at his chest—

“Of course I know it!” Crap, Kuroba’d wanted to be the one to pick this time. “Like I said—his parents asked—”

“It’s Edogawa Minao, nee-chan!” Kuroba bounced out, and then skidded to a halt at the doors. He looked between the two, with Ran frozen mid-poke under his worried gaze, “I—ah—niichan—don’t you have to put the food away?”

Food? They didn’t buy anything—and then it clicked. Kuroba was giving him an excuse.

“Ah—yes. Excuse me, Ran. We’ll get back to that later.” He gave her a meaningful look, and she sighed. Deflating. She would know that meant later. “Could you watch the kid in the living room? I’ll be right out.”

Damn it. He owed Kuroba like twice over.

“Fine.” She sighed with a huff, reaching down to take Kuroba’s hand, “Come now, Minao-kun.”

The much taller girl led the way, leaving Shinichi standing in the doorway to his own home. He let out a relieved sigh as the door clicked shut, turning off the hallway to the kitchen. He didn’t have any food…but Kuroba’d bought him the time to compose himself, he was going to take it.

The remaining bags he plopped on the counter, combining the items into two, and leaving the other sitting empty. From there he moved on autopilot, putting the water on to boil, and then rummaging through the cupboards. He should have some of Ran’s favorite tea in here somewhere. Even if it didn’t mollify her, she’d think twice about hitting him if he came in carrying boiling hot water.

…what was he going to do about Ran? Even if Kuroba managed to convince her that it wasn’t just an excuse—which she seemed to think. What the heck did she mean he wasn’t responsible? He lived alone. He had to be responsible—he wasn’t sure what to say to her. Yesterday was supposed to be her day. Celebrating her victory at the competition. Not only had Shinichi gotten wrapped up in a murder case—not that it had been his fault—but then he’d just up and taken off like that. Shinichi might not have considered it at the time, wrapped up in the mystery of the men-in-black, and then with the bizarre situation with Kuroba, but the facts were sinking in now as he let himself think through the events from her perspective.

Gotta face it, I screwed up. He thought grimly, snagging the dusty serving tray out of the cupboard and placing it on the island. I shouldn’t have run off.

Really. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gotten caught by those men. If he hadn’t gotten caught, Kuroba wouldn’t have had to jump in. He wouldn’t have lost his life. He’d screwed it up for all of them, and he would never be able to tell her just how much he regretted it. It hadn’t just been her day he’d ruined.

If Kuroba hadn’t been there…it might have been him cornered under Ran’s stare, trying to make a new life.

Shinichi exhaled noisily as the kettle beeped, and set to preparing the tea.

Whatever. If Kuroba could face this with a smile, then Shinichi sure as hell wouldn’t let himself mope about it.

Dusty tray hastily wiped clean, and with three steaming teacups set out on it, Shinichi set off toward the living room.

And then paused outside the closed door when he heard the sound of applause.

“That’s impressive, Minao-kun! Where did you learn to do that?”

“From Daddy!” Kuroba’s voice was more muffled through the wood, but the distinctive tones carried well enough, “Mom said he used to do it aaaaall the time when he was thinking. She aaaallways hated it when he’d grab somethin’ breakable—though he never dropped ‘nuthin.”

It was now or never. Shinichi took a breath and shifted the tray to one hand, rapping on the door with his knuckles, “I’m coming in.”

He entered to a brightly lit room, Ran seated primly on the couch, with Kuroba standing near the coffee table. Both heads were turned toward the door, and Shinichi entered just in time to see a ball fall out of the air into the boy’s hand, where it was quickly deposited onto the table. Shinichi eyed the bright yellow ball where it rolled to a stop against a small pile of other items miscellaneous items that had been hastily dumped on the low table. Some of them he recognized as belonging in the room, such as a couple coasters an ashtray and a small notebook…but the others…

Kuroba just beamed at him.

…not going to ask.

“I brought some tea.” He muttered instead, stepping forward and sliding the tray with the cups onto the table. Kuroba gleefully grabbed a cup and sniffed it curiously, but Ran made no move. She just stared at him, her expression neutral. He picked up one of the remaining cups, offering it stiffly to her. He hated being the one under that stare. “It’s your favorite.”

“…I’m not going to forgive you yet.” She responded carefully, glancing from him, to the side, and then down to the cup, “Minao-kun explained it to me. I’m happy that you offered to help him while his mother is away, but you still should have told me.”

“I know. I know.” Shinichi made a mental note to ask exactly what ‘Minao-kun’ told her, “I shouldn’t have made plans with you when I knew I had to do something else. It wasn’t fair to you.”

She nodded, and then reached out for the tea.

The next few minutes were full of tense silence, broken only by the soft sipping of tea. Shinichi had snagged the armchair across the table, with Kuroba sitting on the floor with his back to the chair. The boy seemed content to sit back and let the adults have their staring contest, happily enjoying his tea.

“Taking care of someone is hard work, Shinichi.” Ran said suddenly, breaking away and staring down at the steaming cup, “You won’t be able to run off on cases at all hours of the night anymore. You’ll need to buy real food and cook real meals, and none of this living on caffeine like you normally do—”

…oi, oi, you sure you aren’t talking about your dad?

“—and what about school? You’ll need to get Minao-kun ready in the mornings and help with homework and—”

A quiet snicker from near his knee drew his attention. Shinichi wasn’t sure he liked the smile on the boy’s face. He leaned forward, letting Ran’s lecture flow around them, “Would you even be able to handle going back to primary school?”

“Mmm, if you call driving the teacher into early retirement, handling.” Kuroba responded with a whispered snicker, “I’d recommend not trying it.”

Shinichi could believe that.

“Are you even listening, Shinichi?”

“Yes, Ran.” Shinichi responded automatically, sitting back up in his chair and rewinding the conversation in his mind—only to be interrupted by Kuroba, “And don’t worry about me Ran-neechan! Professor Agasa said he could watch me if Shinichi-niichan had to work, and I’m good at getting myself up in the morning!”

He sounded so proud when he said that, puffing out his chest and causing Ran’s face to melt into an indulgent smile. “I’m glad, Minao-kun! At least someone needs to be responsible.” Shinichi tried to ignore the dig, “I try to stop by as I can, but things aren’t going too well with the agency…”

Now that cut through the haze of annoyance, drawing Shinichi’s attention like the flash of a knife, “Did something happen to the old man?”

Ran sighed heavily, setting her empty cup on the table and picking at her skirt, “It’s just…he was called on a case late last night. It was an emergency, and…I woke up this morning to find the agency torn apart and bottles everywhere. He’d cried himself to sleep. It was a kidnapping. He solved it, but...” She glanced down at Kuroba and then locked eyes with Shinichi, shaking her head slowly. Shinichi immediately understood.

He’d been too slow. And the victim had been a child.

Former-Police Investigator Mouri Kogorou might not be the quickest detective, but he was experienced, and when someone’s life was on the line, he didn’t mess around.

And, while tough, that sort of failure… He winced. No wonder Ran had been more volatile than usual. Her worry over her father, plus the worry compounded when he didn’t show up for school…

“Ran I…” He faltered, drumming his fingers against the arm chair, searching for what to say. Mouri, as relatively unknown private detective, didn’t generally get cases of that…urgency…but… “Next time a case like that happens…just call me, his pride be damned. I’ll try to help, if I can.”

She nodded, standing up abruptly, “Anyway, I should probably be heading home. It was nice meeting you, Minao-kun. Keep an eye on Shinichi for me. As for you…I’ll expect to see you in school on Monday.”

“Yes, yes.” Shinichi waved off her frown, “I’ll have the kid settled in by then. Things’ll get back to normal, Ran. I promise.”

A few more minutes of small talk, and the girl let herself out, picking up her school bag on the way. The room echoed in silence, before Kuroba’s casual remark shattered it, “…guess you have an Aoko too.”

“Excuse me?”

The boy stood up, stretching his arms before gathering his and Ran’s discarded teacup onto the serving tray. “Aoko’s a childhood friend. In that situation, I’d have booked it in fear of the attack of the inevitable mop.”

“I actually was considering it.” Shinichi collapsed back into his chair, massaging his temples to stave off the headache he could feel brewing, “…Ran’s the regional Karate champion as of yesterday.”

Kuroba winced, patting his knee sympathetically “I’m used to the signs, don’t worry. She’s mad, but I talked her down from killing you. Maiming on the other hand…”

“Oi, oi…” Shinichi glared at him, “Just what exactly did you tell her? You realize she’s going to grill me at school on Monday, and then I’ll have to deal with Sonoko gossiping to high heaven about marital disputes.”

“Oh nothing too out of character.” The boy shrugged, “A friend of your parents had to go overseas unexpectedly to care for a sick relative, but didn’t want to disrupt their son (that’s me!)’s schooling. After some prodding from your mother you agreed to host me for a while.”

“That’s only a short-term excuse.” He frowned—geez, even the story only had him accepting at his mother’s suggestion. Couldn’t he ever decide to do anything not case-related on his own for a change? “I told you it could last for…”

“Eh. Even if it stretches on, they won’t ask about it.” Kuroba waved his small hand dismissively, “It’s a touchy topic. People are generally too polite to push��especially since Minao-kun is too young to understand, ne?”

The pitch of his voice rose into Minao’s childish squeak almost effortlessly, body language shifting smoothly as he did so. Then his shoulders shook with laughter, he shook his head, “Feel free to add your own details if you need—I can improvise if they come up.”

Of course you can. Shinichi watched as the boy grabbed the tray, and then quirking his eyebrow as he was soon balancing it on his head theatrically—cups and all. “Well, what about school then? You seemed to think it was…an unwise idea.”

Kuroba’s snicker only reaffirmed Shinichi’s conclusion that he agreed. Releasing the spontaneous magician on an unsuspecting primary teacher… not the best idea for all parties involved.

“It would have to be private school.” Shinichi mused, continuing his train of thought. He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together, “It would corroborate your story—private primary schools aren’t common, and also are expensive. Pulling a student out of one for anything short of medical leave is nearly unheard of. You’d have to improvise if anyone tries to make small talk about it but…”

“Easy enough,” Kuroba waved dismissively, heading toward the kitchen, the tray and teacups perfectly balanced on his head, “Careful though. Too many details at once and people will poke holes into it. Don’t worry about it too much—just do what you do normally. I can take care of myself.”

“…I know that.” Shinichi muttered as the door settled in its frame leaving him alone in the living room. But it was also true that a paper-thin explanation could be just as flimsy. Just as it was a performer’s job to weave believable lies, it was a detective’s job to unravel them. He knew how to lead liars into an unsustainable web, and he wanted to avoid falling into that trap himself.

Ugh. He didn’t like lying. Misleading was occasionally necessary in order to catch a criminal. But lying to Ran? Couldn’t he just tell her? She would never believe it. He wouldn’t have believed it, if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. People just didn’t shrink. Kuroba was too damn good at his job. She would see a precocious child, but still a child none-the-less.

…maybe there was a way to avoid weaving a web of lies. His hand drifted to his blazer’s pocket, retrieving his red cellphone. Thumbing through his contacts—he didn’t have many—he hovered over the confirm button. Considering…

And then pressed it, tucking his phone between shoulder and ear.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Of course. She was walking home. It’s possible she didn’t hear it. Two more rings and it would go to voicemail, and this really wasn’t something he should leave sitting around on a recording.

Ri—click. “Shinichi?”

“Ah, Ran.” Relief. “I—there’s something I want to tell you. About the kid.”

The sounds of traffic drifted through the line, “What is it? Is Minao-kun okay—”

“He’s fine! Don’t worry!” Admittedly, that might not have been the best way to start, but Shinichi soldiered onward, “It’s just…I wasn’t completely forthcoming with you. He’s related to a case I’m working on. I can’t give you any details but—”

“Mou, I already figured that out.”

Shinichi was at a loss for words. “I—what?”

“I said I know, you detective fanatic. It’s the only way you’d agree to something like this.”

“I—ah—I see.” Geez. Not everything he did was related to a case in some way. “Anyway. That’s…about it I guess.”

“I appreciate you telling me.” He could hear her smile in her voice, the image of her face beaming at him popping to mind. He felt his face heat up, and he shook it away frantically. What was with him today? First Kuroba’d made it his mission to fluster him, and now Ran. “I won’t say anything to Minao-kun. I assume he doesn’t know?”

“Ah, no.” Focus. “And I’m going to try and keep him away from the cases. He’s just staying with me, for now.”

“Doing anything with you ends up involved with cases, Shinichi.” Ran teased. It wasn’t his fault. It’s not like he could just ignore it if something happened! “Anyway, I’m almost home now—I better find your fridge stocked decently next time I’m over there! You’ve got more than yourself to feed now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Shinichi rolled his eyes, “Talk to you later.”

Click.

x-x-x

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck

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[katreal-fic]

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck: Chapter 3

Detective Conan / Magic Kaitou fanfic.

Summary:

A chance encounter in Tropical Land has Kaito taking the APTX instead. Shinichi doesn’t quite realize what he’s getting himself into when he promises to repay the favor.

The original version of this story can be found on ff.net. This is an updated one I started, but never finished. This is being posted at @ginshi-chan ‘s request!

Kudou’s grip was tighter than it needed to be, Kaito noted absently, straying just a little as if to inspect something that caught his eye, before being pulled back.  Much like his mother’s had been, when she was worried that he’d sneak off and get into some mischief.

Which had been a valid worry, in her defense. Only that had been years ago. Kuroba Chikage had developed a form of wanderlust after Kaito was old enough—or, mature enough anyway—to fend for himself. She was always coming and going, leaving him with the house to himself. Which was great if he needed space to work on his props.

Not great when someone else had flipped his world on end and shook it vigorously. Rude. That was his job, it wasn’t supposed to happen to him.

Kaito tried not to think about that too much, keeping a good portion of his attention on his act, thinking back over the hundreds of thousands of people he’d observed over the years.  Plenty of those had been children—he still remembered them, how they move, their expressive faces and uncaring gestures—but he’d never had to act like a child, once he’d hit his growth spurt it’d been pretty useless as a disguise. Well, except when he wanted to annoy Aoko. Kaito had never been one to care for his dignity, and quick changing into a diaper and a baby bonnet the one time she’d managed to catch him in homeroom had been totally worth it for her flushed and sputtering face. He’d even accepted his classmate’s quick work with the camera phones all in good fun—he actually had one printed out and pinned to his wall at home.

Home. He wasn’t going ho—

Kaito left that thought alone, pushed into the back of his mind as he channeled his anxiety into nervous energy, shifting from foot to foot as they stood outside the hospital in the somewhat chilly end-of-summer night. Kudou had wrapped his—too large—jacket around Kaito’s shoulders since the nurse had kicked up a fuss about him not bringing Kaito proper clothes. And he apparently had a cold. Who knew? He knew he hadn’t had one before—

An act. That’s all this was. Practice. A heist. Just don’t think about anything else other than the target. He could deal with the rest once he was alone.

“N-ne—nii-chan” Kaito exaggerated a shiver as a chill breeze seemed to knife through the jacket and the oversized sweater beneath. “W-why don’t we just wait inside?”

“The professor said he’d be here in a minute.” Kudou glanced up from his phone, which he’d been fiddling with since the nurse had finally released them, “Plus, the nurse was hovering like a hawk. I would rather not…” The hand holding his rose and fell with the half hearted shrug.

Mmmm, Kaito understood the desire to not be watched. The curb outside the hospital’s main entrance was empty, but the likelihood of security cameras still didn’t let Kaito drop the act completely. He had toned it down after noticing how much it seemed to unnerve the detective. Dissonance perhaps? His mother was a famous actress, if Kaito remembered his research right, he should be used to this sort of thing.

Then again Aoko constantly complained about the ease with which Kaito slipped his masks on and off, and she’d known him forever.

“Now that we’re alone…” Kudou’s phone shut with a snap, the detective slipping the device into the pocket of his jeans, “What is your name? Really?”

“Don’t you know?” Innocently, Kaito peered up at the detective’s narrowed eyes—too high—“Edogawa Take—”

And then he giggled when the look he received was decidedly unimpressed at his antics and Kudou wanted him to know it. Fine. It was far enough from the entrance audio shouldn’t be an issue…and really he shouldn’t push too hard if he wanted the detective to work with him. It was just so easy, and if he kept poking the detective he wasn’t thinking about— “Alright, alright. Kaito. It’s Kaito.”

“And why did you follow me?”

Oh. So he noticed that he’d dodged the question before. He still didn’t have a good answer, but he’s done his research. Kudou Shinichi had a bit of an ego. Maybe if he used that… Kaito deliberately looked away, scratching at his head sheepishly. On cue he felt his face heat up, a contrast to the chill evening air. “I was in the crowd after the roller-coaster incident, and recognized you. You could say…I’m a bit of a fan”

Hmmm…Kudou straightened and lost some of his intensity at that. Oh ho, was that a smirk Kaito could spy out of quick glances, dancing in the fluorescent lights? Kudou was preening.

“A-anyway, it was still a very stupid thing to do. Crime scenes aren’t playgrounds.” Heh. Keeping the smirk off his face, Kaito projected his best impression of innocent angel at the sputtering detective. Teasing the detective was going to be fun. “We’re going to have to go over the details again once I get around to writing up a casefile. I’m going to have the Professor—Agasa, he’s the one picking us up—examine the capsule, but I doubt we’ll get anywhere if it was designed to be undetectable.”

Silence. Nothing so far had been particularly incriminating should someone overhear, but Kudou was skirting dangerous territory now. Kaito saw the detective shift, taking a step toward the curb. Following his eyes, the thief noticed a set of headlights turning into the parking lot.

“You realize…” The detective began carefully, “with your proposed…arrangement…it may be months before you can return home openly? Any investigation will need to be slow. I’ll be chasing shadows.”

“…I’d considered that before the nurses came, Tantei-san. How lucky is it that I’ve been provided the perfect disguise?” Kaito let the child slip, allowing the things he’d been purposefully not thinking about creep forward. But just a smidge, limiting it to a bittersweet smile as he watched the old yellow beetle roll toward them, “My mother is frequently out of town, and even if she believed my claims…I have…friends with the time, resources, AND inclination to snoop around given my lack of relatives.” Heavens knew how much Hakuba would love such an excuse to poke about, and he already showed a perchance to use DNA evidence. Aoko would be loud and pushy about the situation, and she was one of the least likely people to keep a secret. And…Akako? Hm. If anyone would reach the correct conclusion, it would be her. All the more reason to stay away. Her brand of ‘help’ wasn’t something he was quite willing to accept just yet. “Anyway, if room and board is the issue, I can access funds to pay rent given a day or two. If it’s space…I could find something—”

“Stupid.” Shinichi’s deadpanned word cut him off just before the car stopped in front of them, window rolling down to reveal a balding elderly man, his bushy mustache quivering with worry. Kaito looked away and up at Shinichi who pushed him toward the car, “I said I’d take the case didn’t I? And what kind of detective makes his home in the city when his target’s at the docks? Better for the both of us if you stay close for now.”

“Shinichi? Who’s this?” Professor Agasa asked the detective as Kaito climbed into the back seat, pulling the door shut behind him. “I know you don’t have any relatives that age…”

“My name’s Kaito!” The thief chirped back, easing his worries behind a mask where they belonged. But only the first layer, the one he wore for Aoko every day, “I’ll be living with Kudou from now on!”

“Living with?!” The man’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, swiveling to the detective who was buckling himself into the passenger seat, “Oi, Shinichi, don’t you think this is a bit sudden?”

“It’s a case, Professor.” The detective sighed, “You aren’t going to believe a word of it.”

x-x-x

“Mmm…You know I trust you Shinichi-kun…but this is hard to believe.” Professor Agasa sat back, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his white lab coat. He set down the penlight with his other hand, leaving Kaito blinking as the little after image floated around in his vision. The professor had demanded an exam of his own after hearing the condensed version of events. Kaito wasn’t sure how long it’d been since they’d arrived, how long he’d been sitting here, being poked and prodded… The good professor stepped away toward the detective—voice lowered so that Kaito had to strain to make it out—“Other than the elevated fever, I don’t see anything unusually—the body should be under far more stress if something like that had happened…Are you sure it isn’t some pra—”

“I saw him melt before my eyes professor!” Kudou snapped, easily carrying the distance. The detective had been pacing the far length of the storage-room-turned-examination chamber. “Besides—”

“Besides, I think I would have known if I was this height this morning, professor. Everything looks a little—too—big.” Kaito cut in, finally managing to blink away the irritating floating spot. He stood up on the counter where Agasa had instructed him to sit for the examination, crossing his arms and looking beyond the elderly man. Why was Shinichi even bothering? He had proof—and it was a good thing Kudou had thought to remove it. “Why don’t you just show him my student ID card, Kudou? Kuroba, Kaito. It should even have my picture on it.”

Kudou gave him an odd look, “I didn’t see anything like that—nor had the paramedics. It would have been strange if a child had been found with a teenager’s identification.”

…of course he’d had it.

Poker face. Poker face.

Like hell was he going to show these two the dread that was building in his gut. He reached over to where he’d shrugged off Kudou’s coat, going for the bulky pocket where he’d stuffed the contents of his own pockets since he…er…couldn’t really wear his pants properly anymore. Even with the belt tied and the legs rolled and pinned they still were awkward to move in.

He pulled out the thin-nondescript bifold he used for his wallet, tugging out the crumpled paper of a receipt. He spread it out with too small fingers, closing his eyes to what he knew was printed on it. He didn’t resist when he felt larger hands shift it out of his grip.

Student discount.

He remembered pulling it out, tailing Kudou and his girlfriend. Tropical Land wasn’t free. He didn’t work, and his mother left him a monthly allowance, and even with Jii’s help, pulling Kid heists could be expensive so he liked to save money when he could…

Student discounts required a valid middle or highschool ID at Tropical Land. Elementary and below got child pricing.

“Maybe you dropped it?” Kudou’s words sounded a greater part false comfort—they sounded so awkward from him.

Kaito forced a smile, “Possibly. We could always check in the morning! Lost and Found should be closed by now, ne?”

Agasa looked from one to the other, the subtext going over his head, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kudou waved the receipt at him, “If Kuroba’s ID doesn’t show up tomorrow, we’re going to have to operate under the assumption that the culprits took it, and know who he is.”

“…isn’t that why he’s staying with you?”

“…yes, well, I was planning on informing his family and discussing further action.” Kudou began to pace again, “I’m not comfortable leaving them to worry needlessly, but…if they might put up surveillance to ensure Kuroba died…”

“I can contact Mom. I just need to get to an internet café—she’s overseas for another two weeks yet. Dad’s…been gone for 8 years now.” Kaito piped up, “The problem will be Aoko and Hakuba.”

“The friends you mentioned?”

Kaito let out a chuckle, scratching his head. Don’t think. Just continue with the performance. Agasa seemed to have bowed out of the discussion to make coffee, grumbling about how he was too old for this. It was just him, and the detective. The same dance. Poker Face. “Yeah…Aoko’s dad’s a police officer. Without word from me…well, after a while I’m pretty sure they’ll file a missing person’s report.”

“Hm. Good.”

…good? That wasn’t how he’d expected the conversation to play out. He faltered.

Kudou didn’t seem to notice, one hand unconsciously rubbing at his chin as he thought. “We want them to believe you dead, right? If they do have your ID, and they post surveillance, wouldn’t it be odd if your family and closest friends don’t report you missing? It’s bad enough a body won’t be found…Notebook, notebook—ahah.” Kudou snatched a thin book from the messy workspace, pulling a click-pen from his jeans pocket, “Did anyone know you were going to Tropical Land today?”

“Ah—no?”

Oh god. He knew that look. That was the look Hakuba had whenever he thought he had an Idea. Kaito gulped, and did his best to whether the storm of questions until Agasa returned with steaming mugs of coffee and something tucked under his arm. Kudou’s furiously scratching pen slowed, and Kaito took the opportunity to perform a…er…tactical retreat, pleading weariness and a growing headache.

It wasn’t completely a lie either. Damn, Hakuba had nothing on the intensity that was Kudou Shinichi.

x-x-x

Shinichi watched the retreating boy with slight irritation, but consoled himself in that he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he could resume questioning in the morning. It wasn’t like he was a culprit in a murder. They had plenty of time, and the kid had just been in the hospital for heaven’s sake.

“Thanks professor.” He accepted one of the mugs and inhaled the fumes. Black, just like he liked it. “What’s that?”

There was something square and flat tucked under Agasa’s arm. Shinichi peered at it curiously. The professor just chuckled and set down his own mug—much lighter in color than Shinichi’s and smelling quite sweet—“I thought the name sounded familiar. While I was waiting for the coffee to brew I dug this up. Here.”

The frame was offered to Shinichi, the light from the ceiling reflecting on the glass. Shinichi took it, angling the wooden frame to avoid most of the glare while still being visible…

And then froze.

“This is…”

It…looked like his father at first glance. But at a second…and the scrawled signature in the corner, done in white, contrasting against the sharp black suit and hat the man wore.

“Kuroba Toichi.” Agasa hummed, and took a sip of his coffee, making a face before blowing on it, mustache quivering, “An extremely talented magician—I admit I was a bit of a fan. An old friend of mine worked as his assistant—he was the one to get me the autograph.  I think your mother took you and Ran to a performance once.”

A magician—magicians were performers—ones who often used deflection as well as flashy distraction in their work. Looking at the picture, if Shinichi thought about how much he looked like his father, and applied that, even given some allowance for the mother’s characteristics…

“I know you don’t have any relatives that age…”

Damn, things started fitting together so nicely. If Kaito had been raised by someone like that, especially if he ever had any plans to follow in his footsteps... the childish act, or even his stubborn insistence to keep smiling even though Shinichi knew he likely wanted to throw something into a wall…

It might really just be second nature.

“Mind if I keep this?”

“Of course not. It’s just a momento—I always regretted I couldn’t go with you three to the performance, but your father wanted to test something for one of his novels and…well… Jii promised he’d get me a ticket, but … Kuroba died almost a decade ago. An accident I think—he always liked dangerous tricks. That was part of the appeal—the appropriate mystique, seasoned with the spice of danger… ”

Dad’s been…gone for 8 years…

Shinichi nodded, sipping his coffee and half listening to the Professor’s story. Staring down at the image, phantom shreds crept forward. A dim room. Bright lights. Feathers. And above all else…

His mother’s delighted laughter.

x-x-x

The clocked ticked in the corner, time marching unerring onward into the dark depths of the morning. Kaito shifted, cracking an eye open and regarding the chair in the corner of the room. He must have nodded off—he’d escaped here after Agasa’s interruption and had only intended to lie down, collect himself, and maybe wonder what the hell he was going to do next…

The lights in the hallway were dark. The house silent except for the soft breathing of the detective sprawled in a chair in the corner. Why was he here—oh right. He hissed as he brushed against the bandage hidden in his hair. Head injury. But then why had he fallen asleep?

Closing his mouth against an audible sigh, it escaped as a soft hissed exhale. Moonlight spilled through the window, playing across the bed. He stared at it. He couldn’t see the moon itself from the window, and how Kaito yearned for it…

He pushed the heavy blanket back, knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep. Not here in this too large bed, in a body that felt off. Wrong. Kaito had known his body. Far better than most. He knew how tall he was, how wide his shoulders were, even how much his hair fluffed up naturally. After all, he had to know it in order to change it successfully—

Only it was all wrong now. He’d been ignoring it before. Now, in the depths of night, there was nothing to see him crack.

Bare feet touched against the wooden floor, Kaito cinched the borrowed robe tighter, walking to the window.

Nothing but the moon. The moon which waited painfully out of sight.

The night air was cold with the promise of autumn when he unlatched the window—a sharp intake of breath drawing his attention to the detective in the corner. Kaito paused, watching the detective shift, shivering at the temperature change. A blanket had slipped off his shoulders, an easy enough fix as Kaito tugged it back into place.

Unfamiliar muscles trembled as he pulled his much shorter body up from the floor, bare toes curling around the wooden sill as he tried to catch his balance. Second story, not a bad drop—but this was stupid this wasn’t his body. He was hurt and tired and sick—

But he stopped thinking about it and swung himself out the window, reaching for the overhanging branch that was blocking the moon. Nothing but him, the night, and the wind in the trees. From there—

The professor’s roof was flat, with tiered rows of silver panels rising off the back of the roof, shimmering in the flood of moonlight. Solar panels, Kid noted, delicate things. He didn’t often run into them on the rooftops of Tokyo, though some of the high-rise office buildings of “eco-conscious” companies were beginning to install them. A noble idea, but they made for horrible landing zones.

Luckily, the front of the roof was clear, giving him what he wanted. A clear view of the sky, and even more importantly, the moon.

It hung in the sky, waxing, but not quite full. Laughing coyly at him.

He…couldn’t go home. He wouldn’t be able to tease Aoko. Annoy Hakuba. Leave his teacher both stupefied and amazed as he answered advanced algebra with a glance as he bounded from desk to desk.

Even more than that…

He had to give it up.

His goal. His plans. He wouldn’t be able to avenge his father. Not like this. He wouldn’t be able to savor the adrenaline and thrill and utter sense of smug accomplishment when a heist went unerringly right.

Kid threw his head back, closing his eyes and baring his teeth to the taunting moon. The night breeze caressed his face, tugged at his hair, stinging his cheeks where tracts of dampness remained. The air taste vaguely of salt, or was that just his tears?

He didn’t feel like a high school student, like a professional thief, or even like an amateur magician. Not like this. Fate had clipped his wings.

Poker Face, Kaito. No matter what, you shouldn’t let it show on your face.

Even as he felt the tears rolling down his face, he couldn’t cry, only smile at the moon.

I may have learned that lesson a little too well, Dad.

Something crunched, weight settling against the bits of wind-blowing debris that collected on the bare roof. He turned, opening his eyes, unsurprised to find a tall shadow kneeling on the roof. Of course. He’d likely woken when he’d opened the window.

“I didn’t think the branch would hold your weight.”

One by one, he settled the masks back into place.

“It wouldn’t. Not anymore, but I’m tall enough not to need it.” Kudou peered over the edge and reached for something, still talking. “I used to do that myself, you know. Our roof is too steep for proper sulking. I’d come here whenever I had a fight with my parents.”

Kaito turned his back to the detective, sinking to the roof into a loose cross-legged position. If Kudou wasn’t going to force him back inside, he was just going to ignore him. He wasn’t ready to give up the night. The concrete and plaster was cool, seeping through the thin, too large pajama pants he’d been lent.

Tiny stones and debris scraped between shoe and concrete as Kudou approached Kaito unconsciously followed the sound with his ears, tracking the detective’s position in his head even as he outwardly refused to acknowledge the approach. He wanted to be left alone. He wasn’t a child.

“Here.”

Something heavy and warm dropped on his head, spilling around his shoulders. The blanket he’d draped over Kudou earlier. Kaito reached up and pulled it down, letting it pool in his lap. Bewildered he looked up in time to see the detective drop something else in the cushion the blanket created. Small and square, fingers curled around dark plastic.

A phone?

“I’m going to bed. Call me when you’re done, okay? My number’s the only one in there. I’d feel better if I was there to catch you, just in case.”

Kaito just watched as the detective turned away, and slid off the roof, leaving Kaito alone with the newly restored silence, wondering just what he was getting into with one Kudou Shinichi.

x-x-x

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck

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[katreal-fic]

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck: Chapter 2

Detective Conan / Magic Kaitou fanfic.

Summary:

A chance encounter in Tropical Land has Kaito taking the APTX instead. Shinichi doesn’t quite realize what he’s getting himself into when he promises to repay the favor.

The original version of this story can be found on ff.net. This is an updated one I started, but never finished. This is being posted at @ginshi-chan ‘s request!

x-x-x

Ow…

Shinichi’s brain was groggy as it struggled back to consciousness, but despite that, long honed instinct kicked in, cataloging his surroundings even before he could form a coherent thought. Chilly air—too humid to be AC, and accompanied by the faint yet distinctive smell of the bay—slightly salty, but only on the light breeze. The ground was hard, grass tickling his palms, dirt beneath scratching nails. Something digging into his back—rock?

All this happened in the span of a few moments as Kudou Shinichi collected himself, putting two and two together with what he fuzzily remembered…and then sunk back into himself with a groan. Stupid. Why hadn’t he remembered the partner? Why was he even still alive? He knew what happened to witnesses in situations like this, and it normally did not end with them knocked unconscious under a—he shifted, something wooden and splintered scratching against his hand, followed by the paper thin, but roughly veined leaves surrounding him—bush? But he hadn’t been near the bushes. Over by the—he tried to recall—concrete base of the Ferris wheel. He’d been watching the deal go down from around the corner—there’d been a sickly sweet smell and then…

A voice. The culprit?  He couldn’t remember. It got all muddy then—a fact that ticked Shinichi right off. His impeccable memory was one of his greatest strengths, and now it was working against him.

He rolled over, grimacing as the broken branches scratched against his hands, and clawed at his clothes, catching on his jacket. Silence reigned in the nearby vicinity, save for the distant, but constant murmur of voices and music from the park. He pushed forward, body sluggish, breaking out of the entrapping branches and into the night air. The bright colorful lights of the Ferris wheel stood out against the dark sky—how long had he been out? The sun had set?

“Oi, oi…” He muttered, putting a hand to his aching head, searching for any sign of blood or wound that would explain his aching head. Nothing. Letting his fingers slip free of his hair, he straightened his jacket out of habit, surveying the scene with a detective’s eye. It may not be a crime scene—but a crime had happened here—

And then he saw it, a lump lying in the shadow of the lit Ferris wheel. A body shaped lump.

Before he could think of it, Shinichi was rushing to the dark spot in the even darker shadows, pulling his gloves from his jacket pocket from sheer habit.

Stay quiet.

The hissed words echoed in his mind, a sharp shove, all wrapped up in a sickly sweet smell.

And a body, lying face down in the dirt. Crushed grass indicated it had been dragged from…He followed the traces with his eyes, falling on the exact spot he’d been standing earlier. Crushed plastic littered the ground, the torn cardboard package indicated his disposable camera but…

The film was gone. Of course. No witnesses.

And as for the body. Shinichi knelt carefully, reaching out a hand to check the inevitable even as he pulled out his phone to call the police—noting the still red blood weeping from the victim’s brown hair…had to be recent—head wounds had a tendency to look worse than they were, but without a beating heart the flow would ease… Fingertips touched the carotid artery just as the phone began to ring…

Only to pull back in shock—he could still feel the heat against his fingertips, spearing through the thin protection of the gloves from the victim’s skin. For that single moment, a pulse, real and wild and erratic beat against his fingers like a howling wind against the certainty of his deduction. This wasn’t a corpse! Rolling the body over—no not a body, the victim—the light from his phone shone in clouded, hooded eyes, red face and shallow breathing indicating much much worse than mere unconsciousness… “Oi! Hang in there!”

Damn, he was just too used to finding bodies.

He immediately changed his intention, hitting the end call button to clear the line and immediately typed in the general emergency number rather than the inspector’s phone.

The dispatcher barely came on the line before Shinichi snapped at him, “I need at Ambulance at tropical land immediately! The victim seems to exhibit a high fever—“ Shinichi tugged off his glove, calibrating himself with his own temperature before quickly pressing his hand against the victim’s forehead, enduring the heat to get an estimate to pass along to the dispatcher, “of at least 39 degrees, as well as a mild head injury—likely from a—” He pulled a small penlight out of his coat, checking the nearby concrete blood for any cast off, “long blunt object, with minor bruising around the face.” He rattled off the rest of the answers as the dispatcher asked, running through the scenario in his mind.

This should have been him, face down in the grass, with blood matting his hair. He’d been the one watching. He’d been the idiot who didn’t wonder where the man’s partner was.

So why.

Stay quiet. Don’t move.

…so why had he been knocked away?

Shallow breathing haunted him, tiny grasps that on anyone else would have been labored breath. For once, the great high school detective was stumped. Time passed, nothing but the faint buzz from the still open line and the dispatcher’s occasional updates breaking the silence.

And then the coughing hit. The victim’s body began to seize, nearly scorching Shinichi’s hand through his gloves when he tried to pin him down to prevent flailing. The phone fell to the ground, forgotten. The victim was his size, perhaps a little shorter, and it took everything Shinichi had to hold him down…

And then...he began to steam. Billows of hot air wafted away from the boy, forcing the incredulous Shinichi back. This was…no fever was hot enough to do that. Just as…

Just as…

He couldn’t even think anymore. Just watched. Just watched as a boy his height, his age, just…melted away into a heavy haze of oddly oily, thick steam. The smell nearly smacked him in the face, and it took more willpower than he thought he had to keep a hold of—of…

Eventually strong shoulders that had once filled his hands…were gone. Thin. Bony. The close fitting knitted sweater pooling around the too small body--It was impossible, his brain said. Even as the evidence before him demanded he believe otherwise.

Shinichi didn’t even notice when the dispatcher’s frantic line was cut. He just stared, dumbfounded before him. And then he shook his head. Impossible. This was just impossible.

Teenagers did not shrink.

Had it ever even been a teenager? Maybe it was just his mind, playing tricks.

The clothes—that lingering smell that had his throat seizing up—there was only one truth.

Park security found him there shortly after, having been called by dispatcher to relocate the patient to one of the gates to easier access the ambulance. Which they did, chiding Shinichi that he should have just taken the boy to one of the medical stations in the first place.

After all, he was small enough to carry.

Something small and white tumbled to the green grass when one of the security officers lifted the—the boy in his arms. Shinichi snatched it on instinct in his gloved hand, brain barely registering what he saw.

A half dissolved capsule.

How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?

He barely thought to ask which hospital the boy was being taken to before the ambulance sped away.

There was only one truth.

x.x.x

“Detective—pardon me, but you are Kudou Shinichi, correct?”

The detective looked up, finding the nurse he’d spoken with earlier had approached him again, clipboard in hand. He immediately catalogued her distracted expression, and the sharp tapping of her nails against the hard backing, before shaking his head and nodding wearily, “Yes, ma’am?”

“You were the one to admit…” She checked her clipboard, “Edogawa-kun, correct?”

Shinichi nodded. His face heating up as he remembered the mad rush to come up with a name. Detective or not, the hospital had been loathe to let him stay after hours without a connection to the kid. He’d managed to call in a favor with the officer in charge of the scene…but even still he needed to be able to talk to him, not wait out here like this.

Besides, given what…happened. Even if the boy had identification it wouldn’t have worked.

“You should have mentioned he has been staying in your care while his parents were overseas.” The nurse scolded, “We thought you were just here as a police representative!”

…what?

“Honestly,” She huffed, shoving the clipboard into Shinichi’s hands, leaving the detective dumbfounded, “Leaving a child that young with a boy your age—I can’t imagine what they were thinking. We’ve been worried sick about finding his parents—you could have saved us all a lot of trouble by merely speaking up when you first arrived. Well? What are you looking like that for? Edogawa-kun has been asking for Shinichi-nii-chan since he woke up, and he’s just been cleared for visitors. Fill out the form already!”

Oi, oi, what the hell was going on?

Staying with him?

Shinichi-niichan?

Granted, this was the opportunity he’d needed—he’d almost wanted to claim family when he’d first arrived just so he could talk to the boy about…what had happened, but the deception had rubbed him the wrong way. Caretaker was just as bad, but he hadn’t been the one to make the claim!

The boy was. Shinichi smiled weakly, giving the stern look a nervous laugh in reply, “Sorry—I’ve been worried, and not thinking straight. I’m not used to cases being…so personal.”

Which was true. He dealt with cases and bodies and the dregs of society on a nearly daily basis, especially since he’d started volunteering his consulting services at the police station. He could face down a killer with a calm predatory smirk, laying out the logic and evidence and his deductions into a thinly veiled trap…

But this…this was personal, and that had shaken him. He’d almost been that victim, and he didn’t know why he hadn’t been.

He forced the thought away, picking up the pen and filling in his name and contact information, only half listening to the nurse’s soft hurmph at his answer and the subsequent scolding. He didn’t care about how she thought he was being irresponsible, dragging a child into one of his cases—oh yes she’d heard about the roller coaster incident today—his focus was on what waited for him once he filled out the visitor’s form, only really stumbling over the “Relationship to patient” field for a moment or two before he scrawled down “temporary caretaker”

What was the kid’s game? Claiming that relationship? How had he even gotten involved in the case? Shinichi had been alone while tailing the portly, black-coated man. He’d been alone while eavesdropping. It wasn’t until…

Stay quiet. Don’t move.

And then…he hadn’t been alone, for those few seconds that remained in his fuzzy memories.

“Everything seems to be in order.” The nurse announced, checking over the clipboard, which he handed back to her. She vanished behind the vacant nurse’s station to print out a visitor’s badge for him. It was really just a formality, after hours, with only the night-shift around to monitor overnight patients or to respond in case of an emergency. Shinichi wasn’t often in hospitals—most of his cases had…more unfortunate endings, and he tended to stay on site even for the ones that didn’t begin with a fatality.

Shinichi clipped the badge to his jacket, and started moving when the nurse motioned him to follow. “As you are the closest thing to a guardian we have—Edogawa-kun’s condition stabilized quickly once we got a hold of him. While the initial report was a dangerously high temperatures, we found Edogawa-kun’s levels were normal, if slightly elevated, but no more than would be expected of a child coming off a cold—has he taken any cold medicine lately?”

…how the hell would Shinichi know? He shook his head, “Not as far as I am aware.”

The nurse hummed, throwing him another of those ‘How irresponsible’ glances of hers before continuing, “The doctor on staff believes it could have been an allergic reaction to a brand of cold medicine—not a common occurrence, but given our test results, and the signs of a heightened immune reaction and evidence of recently ingesting a gel-cap commonly used in over the counter medicine—I’d try and isolate the brand he took and avoid it in the future. As for the head wound—I do hope you gave the details of that to the police—it isn’t deep, but he will need to be monitored for the better part of the night in case of a concussion. Are you equipped for that at home or do you require a ward?”

Shinichi ignored the jabs, “Depending on the length of time, I can manage. But I would like to see him first.”

She nodded curtly. “Of course. I’ll drop you off, and go write up the discharge paperwork.”

x-x-x

“Shinichi-niichan!”

The childish voice nearly stopped him mid-step as he pushed open the door. The boy was sitting up on the bed, skinny legs dangling from beneath a mint green hospital garb. He was beaming at Shinichi with a bright grin and wide blue eyes despite his face still looking slightly flushed from the lingering fever. Stark white bandages wound around his brown, wild hair, holding a slightly bulging pad in place over where Shinichi had observed a majority of the blood just earlier that night. “Shinichi-niichan! The nurses say I’m sick but I don’t feel sick—they didn’t know where you were and were asking about mum but mum is overseas and they wouldn’t believe me—”

The following stream of energetic, childish chatter, delivered in that same bright high voice, with those speech patterns and inflections—almost made him doubt his own memories. Those horrifying stupefying memories—the stench of oily steam…

But the doubt didn’t last more than an instant as he noticed the far-too large clothes folded onto the visitor’s chair off to the side. Cleaned, and lacking dark patches of dirt and dried blood along the neck Shinichi vividly remembered, but still the same over-large black knit sweater and slacks.

The nurse behind Shinichi sniffed once, and pulled the door shut behind the detective. She’d likely lingered to ensure the boy’s reaction was appropriate for their supposed relationship. That action prompted an obvious, sudden change, with the stream of babble stopping, and the grin shifting slightly, moving from innocence to amusement. “Really, Kudou? Edogawa? Points for Takeheshi being a common enough name, but I’m no novelist. ”

The boy’s voice had noticeably shifted as well, pitch dropping lower—still high and young, but not quite so obviously child-like anymore. Thin arms which had been moving expressively during the previously monologue settled in the boy’s lap, although he still kicked at the bed occasionally.

…an impressive knowledge of vocal patterns, and an awareness of body language? That sort of stunt was something he wouldn’t put past his mother—a professional actress—if she’d been in this sort of situation. This kid knew exactly what he was doing.

“Excuse me for not having your name handy.” Shinichi found himself responding in a monotone, his eye twitching at that smug grin, “I was a little more concerned with the fact that I’d seen you shrink right before my eyes.”

“So you saw that, huh?” The boy’s smile turned wry as he looked down at his hands, turning his palms up and spreading the small fingers as wide as he could, “Not exactly one of my best plans.”

“It was some sort of poison, wasn’t it?” Shinichi asked flatly, taking a step toward the bed, pulling out the clear evidence bag with the mostly dissolved small white capsule, “I don’t know how you found us, but somehow you noticed the partner’s approach while I didn’t. You came out of hiding, pushed me away…”

Stay quiet. Don’t move.

The smell…

“The partner used some sort of knock out gas on the area, knocking me out where I’d fallen. He followed up with a blow to your head—perhaps a branch or—”

“Pipe.” The boy interrupted, absently picking at the padded bandage on the back of his head, wincing, “He hid it in his coat I think.”

“…pipe then. The impact must have lessened the effect of the gas, considering you remember that.” Shinichi added the detail to his growing image of the scene, pieces slowing fitting together as he worked through the deduction. Hands behind his back, he began to pace. “He dragged you over to the large one with the sunglasses. You were a witness—they couldn’t let you live. But thanks to the murder I solved, there was still a significant police presence in the park. Even with the noise of an amusement park, gunshots would be easily noticeable and attract their attention. Their only options left were transporting you to a more secluded location or…”

“Or poison.” The kid nodded, tilting his chin toward the detective’s evidence bag and folding his hands behind his head. He kicked his bare feet idly, “Experimental, according to the blonde guy. Supposed to be quick and undetected. Looks like I lucked out on this one.”

He blinked and then grinned up at Shinichi, who’d paused in his pacing to stare back. Everything just suddenly…shifted. “You’re a great detective, Shinichi-niichan! You figured everything out!”

“…stop that.” Disgruntled, Shinichi shot a narrowed glare at the…sudden reappearance of the child. Even though it matched his outward appearance better, it nagged at him now that he knew it was a fake. “Why aren’t you aren’t horrified? At all this?”

“Terrified, actually!” The boy laughed, the sharp edges returning to his smile, “The poison was supposed to kill me, but it only managed the past seven years. I’d say I got off pretty lucky!”

Oi, oi…how the hell was he holding it together so damn well—

Or…was he? Was that sharp, bordering on manic grin actually coping, or was it just another layer to peel away?

“And then what?” Shinichi demanded, “Why the caretaker line? Why me?”

Why save me.

“You’re a detective, Kudou. Deduce.” The boy jumped off the bed—a bit unsteady, but rolling with it, nearly bouncing when he landed. “I seem to be in a bit of a predicament. And you seem to be particularly interested in this case, given the fact that you are still here.”

Those steel blue eyes tore into his.

“I want to hire you.”

x-x-x

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck

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[katreal-fic]

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck: Chapter 1

Detective Conan / Magic Kaitou fanfic. 

Summary:

A chance encounter in Tropical Land has Kaito taking the APTX instead. Shinichi doesn’t quite realize what he’s getting himself into when he promises to repay the favor. 

The original version of this story can be found on ff.net. This is an updated one I started, but never finished. This is being posted at @ginshi-chan ‘s request!

A clandestine meeting, hidden in the shadows of Tropical Land’s iconic and towering Ferris wheel. A curious detective, hiding in the bushes, sticking his nose into a business he really shouldn’t.

And… to round it all off, one thief, lying flat against the concrete supports of the massive ride, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.

From a professional standpoint, Kuroba Kaito—occasionally not-so-known as the Kaitou Kid—had found this entire day fascinating. He’d been stalking the detective on and off for the last week, trying to gauge his abilities and character, so he could factor his involvement into the next heist he was planning. The Suzuki Financial Group had a rather lovely black pearl, and given his research had unearthed Suzuki Sonoko’s best friend was well acquainted with a certain high school detective whose name was not Hakuba.…well, he didn’t want to be surprised again. The Clock Tower had almost gone disastrously because someone had caught him by surprise. At every turn. He hadn’t expected anyone to follow him that closely, to see through his mechanisms so easily. While Hakuba liked to boast that he would illuminate the truth, whoever was in that helicopter had torn through his plans with a ruthlessness that had Kaito grinning at the thought of it. A little research, and careful prodding and patient endurance of Nakamori’s rants over dinner, and he’d had a name.

Kudou Shinichi—the unofficial, under aged pet detective of the Major Case squad, based in Beika Prefecture. Kaito had plenty of opportunity to observe the detective’s skills in action even since he’d started his intermittent surveillance (intermittent because he did still have to go to school. Aoko would pout at his mother and he’d get a scolding over their nightly video chats otherwise.) The Detective actively sought out cases—everything from high profile murder cases to petty theft, and Kaito had seen more bodies than he ever wanted to while observing the Detective’s methods. Even just earlier today—with the roller coaster. Now that had been a treat to watch as Kudou Shinichi broke down the mists of the unknown to lay the truth out for all to see, even as he’s been nervously mixing with the milling crowd drawn by the police presence.

But of course, one as astute as Kudou couldn’t have ignored the two imposing figures waiting through the investigation impatiently. They’d given Kaito the creeps in those trench coats and hats, and the look in the blonde one’s eyes…damn, it had Kaito flashing back to a rooftop at night, listening to Snake boasting about his father’s murder.

Kaito had the sense not to go near such people. Something Shinichi seemed to be lacking, having ditched his girlfriend at the first sight of the portly one of the pair disappearing down a darkened alleyway.

Then again—if Kaito had sense, why had he followed?

The thief shifted, rising from his prone stance to his knees to open up a greater field of vision. Given the setting sun, this spot should still be in the shadow of the Ferris wheel’s supports, and would give him some cover—he preferred high places, and could see almost everything from his vantage point. There was Kudou hiding behind the corner just below the point Kaito had chosen, there were the two strange men completing the deal by the base of the Ferris wheel, and there was the guy’s partner—

Kaito paused; quiet alarms growing in the back of his mind. The long haired guy was not standing guard along the perimeter where he had been when Kaito had last done a quick scan. Narrowed eyes flitted around the area—that head of white-blonde hair shouldn’t be that hard to spot, even with the black fedora covering it—but the shadows of the trees and buildings were growing longer, obscuring a good chunk of the view between where he had been and now—

A flash in between the tree trunks, a sliver of sunlight dancing across pale hair. Damn. That was much closer than Kaito had hoped. Given his starting position—Kaito did a couple calculations, not liking the numbers he was getting. The man was moving toward the group, and would be in direct sight of the detective in a few minutes. His mind was working in overdrive to discover a way to get the best outcome from a very bad situation. His inventory was unnervingly low, he didn’t like carrying it during plainclothes recon. Especially when cases seemed to just appear around the detective, and those generally meant a police presence. Aside from a set of lockpicks worked into the seam of his wallet…all he had was, a deck of playing cards—not even the steel edged ones he used with his dad’s gun—and a small canister of sleeping gas, disguised as bug-off.

The sleeping gas was promising, but such a low dose wasn’t instant. If he dropped it on the man as he stumbled upon Kudou, he’d likely shout out, drawing the attention of the portly man at the other end of the structure. Plus the gas would hit Kudou too, leaving him a sitting duck for when the other came to investigate.

Close now. Damn, he was running out of time. Pay attention Kudou! You know he wasn’t alone—wait—was he pulling out a camera now?

Goddamn detective was too wrapped up in the case to pay attention to his surroundings.

Well, his window was closing, time to go with the most stupid of his plans. If these men were anything like Snake, they wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate a witness. Kaito refused to allow a casualty while he could avoid it. They wouldn’t do it here—not with the lingering police presence—and Kaito was good at escaping.

He fished the small canister out of his jacket, twisting the spray cap, then holding it down with his thumb. He counted down, and then crawled to the point of the structure directly above Kudou, dropping the now open canister with a faint hiiiiisss into the night.

In a flash, the thief was dropping into the pale cloud of smoke, a specially treated handkerchief pressed against his mouth and nose to avoid the effects of his own gas. His free hand reached out to grab the detective as he started to cough, muffling the sound with his hand.

“The other is coming.” His words were muffled, but Kudou still seemed responsive enough to hear given by how rigid the boy suddenly went. “Stay quiet and don’t move.” He hissed the last part and shoved the teenager into the heavy bushes a few feet away, away from where he’d noticed the pale-haired one approaching. He should have a last couple seconds of grace—not enough to escape given he heard the approaching footsteps increase in speed, breaking twigs as he ran. Kaito could easily vanish into the bushes, and later blend into the evening crowd—but if he did so, they’d search the area and find Kudou anyway. Kaito’s best bet was to play bait. He even went so far as to pick up the disposable camera Kudou had dropped and position it as if to take a picture.

Given the strong-headed detective didn’t come charging back out at him, Kaito figured either he’d decided to listen, or the gas had managed to knock him out. It was strong even in such small quantities—it just didn’t work as quickly.

Finally, he heard it, a faint footstep behind him, and a whoosh as a sharp pain exploded on the back of his head. He’d shifted slightly upon hearing the whistle of air—avoiding a knockout blow—he’d suffered worse in his career—but the growled words did nothing to help the monstrous headache he’d been gifted with, “Your detective game…is over…”

He allowed himself to fall to the ground with a thud. Glad he’d decided to be the bait rather than just cut and run. Given the mention of detective game, the man remembered Kudou from the roller coaster. Kaito groaned—partially to play the part, partially because the man kicked him swiftly in the side. Footsteps, heavy set. The other man hurried toward them—the nervous 2nd party probably took the opportunity to flee.

“This little shit was trailing us.”

“Hey is that the detective—”

Damn, he knew they looked similar but that was ridiculous. If Kudou ended up being targeted anyway then this entire charade would be pointless. The stockier one was cut off mid sentence, probably by a nod or head shake or some other type of gesture. Being face down in the dirt didn’t give him much opportunity to observe more than their heavy black boots in his swimming vision. He may have been able to mitigate some of the force of that blow, but damn did it still send his head spinning. Something hard and strong knitted into the back of his sweater, knuckles digging into his neck as one of the men jerked him up, a second strong hand reaching out to grip his chin when Kaito tried to let his head flop back down limply. The man’s face swam in his hooded vision, the empty black eyes the only feature that stood out; cold, calculating, framed by white silver hair. This close—they seemed even more sinister than Snake’s. What the hell had he stumbled in to now?

“Not the detective. It’s some other random punk. Good. Lower profile.”

The iron grip on his collar didn’t let up, and Kaito heard the click of a gun, and the shorter man’s question about whether to end his life. His captor’s answer was as he had expected—no guns for fear of the police. Now they’d probably take him somewhere to get the job done, and the longer that took, the easier it would be to escape. His head was already clearing—and Kaito had pulled off escapes from worse situations before—

Poison. Shit. He hadn’t even considered poison. The one holding him accepted a small metal case from the other, pulling a capsule from the padded interior. Contact poison? Or did it need to be digested? He didn’t know. Guns he could handle. Knives. Police issued stunguns—even evil androids—but what the hell did he do with poison!?

Instinctively he clamped his jaw shut, and soon felt something small being pressed against his lips.

“Uncooperative little punk.” The gravelly voice was beginning to become laced with annoyance, “Vodka, cover his nose.”

Vodka? What a strange name… The thought drifted across his mind as he the large hand covered his nose, cutting off his oxygen supply. He knew what they were trying to do, they wanted to make him open his mouth to try and breathe. Just above the bulky hand he could see the bush he’d dumped Kudou in. He tried to focus on it. Kaito was starting to feel lightheaded as the seconds passed; he didn’t know how much longer he could last with his lungs near screaming for air.

It was nearing three minutes when he couldn’t take it anymore, and he unintentionally gulped in a large breath of air. The unnamed man used the opportunity to thrust the pill into his mouth, the sudden intrusion nearly causing him to gag. He automatically shifted his tongue, wedging the foreign object between his cheek and his teeth as the man reached for a bottle of clear liquid from his partner—intent on washing it down. Mouth full of water, his nose was covered again.

“Just swallow damn you.”

It was very hard to do, while making sure the capsule didn’t move, but Kaito did, focusing on the feel of the hard object pressing against his cheek. As long as it didn’t move, he’d be fine. He’d be fine—capsules meant it needed to be ingested to dissolve properly—

Satisfied, the man tossed him to the ground, leaving Kaito gagging after the force of his face hitting the dirt rocked through him.

“So long, punk.”

He waited, head swimming, focusing on the retreating sound of footsteps and the rustle of cloth as his assailants left. Just a little longer. The capsule seemed to burn against his cheek. Just a little…

More…

Silence.

He tried to move, tried to push himself up to spit it out into the grass. Nothing. His body wouldn’t respond. There wasn’t anything anymore—just a growing heat inside him. One threatening to burn everything away.

x-x-x

“Ne, aniki.” Vodka broke the silence, disrupting the soothing hum of the porsche’s engine, idling at the exit to the parking garage, “How are we going to report this? We don’t have a name.”

Gin shrugged, taking one hand off the wheel to reach into his coat. He tossed the laminated card at Vodka carelessly. “Just a nobody.”

The student ID stared up at Vodka once he managed to catch it. “Damn aniki. I didn’t even notice.”

Name. School district. Picture. More than enough to submit the report satisfactorily, as well as set up light surveillance to make…sure that they hadn’t missed.

Not that they would have, Gin had seen some of the videos from the trials. Such a painful looking way to die. Almost as if they’d been boiled alive. Sherry had outdone herself. He was grudgingly impressed.

The light turned green, Gin coaxed the classic car into the main road, leaving the bright lights of Tropical Land behind them.

Pity it hadn’t been the detective brat like he’d thought. Watching him work today… If it hadn’t been for the Organization’s regulations, he might have considered some… proactive elimination. Random deaths were so messy…

Ah well. Thoughts for another day. Without a thread of evidence to follow, it didn’t matter how good a detective was. They were just as blind in the dark.

Don’t Just Leave it All Up to Luck

First

[katreal-fic]

Reset: Chapter 2

Undertale Fanfic. Aborted No Mercy run. Spoilers Ahead. You are Warned.

Summary:  There are no rewards or punishments - only consequences. Sans got his reset, but something seems /very/ different this time around.

Direct sequel to Continue? Please read that first!  It’s definitely gone AU now. Non-canon worldbuilding, magic and soul theory.

Sans paused at the top of the stairs, listening intently to the snores coming from his brother’s room. Heavy. Loud. Interspersed with sleeping, stuttering “NYEH”s.

Yep. That was Pap all right.

Sans let his fingerbones linger on the doorknob, and then drew away, pulling his hood up over his head and mentally preparing the coordinates he wanted to step toward.

He wasn’t breaking his promise. Not really. He’d agreed to stay in bed today. Which he had. But, Papyrus was in bed and it technically wasn’t today anymore.

Step, and he was standing in front of Grillby’s, hands stuffed in his pockets against the biting cold. Snowdin was dim and quiet, although he knew some of that was the result of his damned eye. The headache had eventually receded to a constant, but tolerable pressure, but it hadn’t fixed the issue of his eyelight malfunctioning, and still left the world looking like someone had stuck a lampshade over his head, and the bulb liked to flicker more often than not.

Still, at least he knew the light spilling from the windows was glowing, painting the white snow banks a bright orange and yellow. Sans had always thought it was pretty damn thematic, a tiny little flame in such a cold bleak environment.

Not that Snowdin was unwelcoming. It was actually rather cozy. But there was a reason every sign tacked “and more ice” onto the end of every location.

Okay, so maybe Sans had thought it was funny to scribble that onto the sign at the crossroads on his way back from sentry duty one day. It’d only been in washable marker, and since no one had bothered to clean it off yet he figured it wasn’t too off the mark.

Heh.

A tiny bell chimed as he pushed the door open, the blast of air rushing out to warm his already chilled face.

It was fairly empty this time of night, the only patrons being a passed out rabbit and the smallest of the dog-squad still playing poker with itself. Sans sidled into his normal seat at the bar.

It was...quiet. Faint, soothing music drifting gently from the jukebox in the corner. Grillby didn’t take long to notice the addition, barely glancing up from the glass he was washing to reach behind the counter and pull out Sans’ usual.

He downed nearly half the bottle of ketchup in a single gulp.

“What? No fries?”

The flame elemental glanced meaningfully at the clock, giving a half shrug.

“No worries, I’m just grillin’ ya.” Sans took another, smaller swig, before placing the bottle back down on the wooden bar with a clunk. He stared down at the droplets of red clinging to the glass, leaving trails as gravity quickly worked to pull them back down to the rest.

It reminded him too much of the nightmare. Blood seeping through the grooves in the tile. He suddenly lost his appetite.

He honestly wasn’t sure what was driving him forward at this point.

A promise? To someone he might as well have never met?

A smiling face in the sunset, stained and blotted by spilled ink.

He hated making promises.

Flames crackled. The elemental offered a second round. Sans shook his head, his throat closing up at the thought of it.. “Nah. Thanks, but Pap would kill me.”

Pops and hisses as the fire danced, the smartly dressed elemental squirreled the bottle away beneath the bar. Sans almost missed the follow up question, lost as it was in the smooth jazz music from the corner.

“Eh, don’t worry about it Grillbz. He’s just worried. Ya know how Pap is.”

Yellow eyes in the shifting face flickered, the elemental gestured with his cleaning rag.

“That noticeable eh?” Sans took one hand off the the bottle, running his fingers along the curve of his skull, just above the edge of his eye socket. His finger bones followed the spiderweb of cracks, spreading both up and to the side, sealed and reduced to barely raised ridges and dips in the bone. Papyrus hadn’t done a bad job, everything considering.  “Nuthin’ exciting really. Just a fall. Pap just didn’t want me at my post today.”

The elemental’s dry response to that made him snicker, “Yea. Shocker isn’t it? First time in a long time he’s encouraged me to be lazy. Gotta admit it tho, the resulting headache had been enough to make even my brand of slacking miserable. I probably wouldn’t have made a good sentry, one eye’d or no.”

The elemental’s fire-wreathed head bobbed sympathetically.

“So. Did I miss anything while I was tied up today?” Sans continued after a few minutes of soft jazz. The fire elemental shrugged, setting aside the glass he’d just finished drying and adding it, still slightly steaming, to the pile beside him. Business as usual.

Sans hadn’t thought so. It still felt early. He’d prefer to finish this before the other sentries got involved. “Just...keep an ear out okay?”

It...just slipped out. He surprised himself. He hadn’t intended on saying anything further about it. The elemental paused, hissing a question at him, embers popping.

“Just a feelin’. Honestly it’s probably nothing.” Sans assured him quickly, wondering where that came from. Grillby always got out, didn’t he?

...Sans wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Papyrus always died, and Sans hadn’t.

...until this last.

Seven full resets since he’d started recording, an uncountable number of smaller ones, and he’d finally died.

Honestly he was kinda surprised it had taken this long.

Cold fire burned in the depths of his soul, sad, hurting. It was a phantom pain, but it felt like it was trying to tear itself apart.

You died.

No more waiting right? If he got dusted tomorrow, the first warning the town would get would be the Dog-Squad missing a poker game.

Damn. This was getting depressing even for him. “Hey Grillbz.”

The fire elemental arched a lick of flame.

“D’ya got anything sweet?” Grillby’s surprise was obvious. Sans never deviated from his usual. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a bar, not a bakery. Just figured I’d ask.”

Something sweet might be what he needed to pick up his mood. Maybe he’d stop by the general store when it opened. Cinnamon sounded good. The idea lightened the weight on his shoulders a little. He slid off the stool, leaving the remains of the bottle where it sat. Grillby sizzled behind him, Sans glanced over his shoulder, “Just put it on my…”

He trailed off, shaking his head and reaching into the pocket of his hoodie. He counted out the GP and slid them onto the counter, keeping just enough to afford the cinnamon bunny. Wasn’t like it’d matter if it reset, but if he did end up dusted, at least Grillby wouldn’t be out completely. Just covering his bases. “That should cover about half of the tab. I’ll get the rest to you later, okay bud?”

The elemental stared at the small pile of coins in abject confusion. He crackled at Sans. Demanding.

The skeleton laughed. The grinning jokester; that was all anyone was allowed to see. “Who knows? I could be doing it just to make you sizzle. Seems a bit more likely than possession, eh?”

Sans turned his back and shuffled toward the door, giving Grillby a wave and a “Night Grillbz” before pushing out into the cold.

The door swung shut behind him. Sans took a breath of frozen Snowdin air, and stepped.

The difference was night and day. Literally.

Where Grillby’s had been bright and warm even with his eye on the fritz, the depths of the constantly snow-covered wilderness was nearly total blackness without the light from the day-glow crystals, and they were still some hours away. As he walked from his sentry station toward the huge door at the beginning of the trail, Sans caught his slipper on a stone he couldn’t see. Suddenly the ground was missing for the longest moment ever, and then he was face first in the snow.

Cold!

The mental yelp was embarrassing. He could almost imagine the laughter if he’d had any sort of audience. Nervous giggling. Papyrus’ awkward squawk as he was torn between laughing and worry. But Sans was alone, the laughter echoing in his own head.

He shivered in his coat.

Why doesn’t the skeleton like the wind?

Or the cold. Or the ice. Sans could think of a number of variations. All leading back to the punch-line.

It cuts right through them.

There was a reason most of Snowdin’s populace were fuzzy. This place got damn cold, although today’s seemed particularly piercing. He’d need to evaluate his plan, he’d need more layers if he intended to go through with this.

Leaving the undignified Sans angel behind, he followed the trail through the dark and barren trees. The bridge was coming up. Soon enough the posts of Papyrus’ gate loomed out of the darkness on either side, but Sans kept his eyes firmly on the ground.

Creak.

The wood shifted under his weight. Had it always been that loud? Or was it just him being hyper aware?

A fall here and...well…

Okay, to be honest he’d probably keep his head enough to initiate a shortcut before he hit the bottom of the ravine, but he’d still end up knocking his already battered skull against his lumpy mattress. He didn’t need Pap getting the bright idea he needed to tie him to the bed to keep him from hurting himself. Even Sans couldn’t take a shortcut without being able to move.

He didn’t let go of the breath he was holding until he was back on solid, snow-covered ground. Almost there.

CRACK.

A stick breaking echoed through the trees. The scream of some distant noctournal monster.

The sound rattled in his skull. Sinking into his bones. He lifted his slipper, peering down at the fuzzy shadow in the white snow.

Yeah. Just a stick. Heavy, but just a stick.

Sans shrugged and moved on.

The great stone door loomed above him. Sans glanced over to where he knew a bush hid one of Alphys’ cameras.

Well. He’d known about that before. Not like it changed anything.

Damn it. He needed to be able to see.

Magic flared in his right eye, Sans held out a hand, blue magic coalescing into a faintly glowing bone construct that floated above his palm. It offered a little light, as did the flame in his good eye, but the most useful thing was that everything shifted back into focus.

Gotta love yellow magic.

Irritating, but Sans could roll with it. It was just yet another energy drain on his already overtaxed body. No big deal.

Sans tossed the construct into the air carelessly, directing it to float out over the unbroken snow.

Over there, there was a path worn through. Worn, but not recently.  Sans knew that little lane. He traced it in the light of the construct. It led right up to the door, with a tiny spot cleared just large enough for a bored skeleton to practice knock knock jokes.

Other than that...nothing. There were no scuff marks in the clean snow to indicate the heavy door opening. No footprints to indicate the passage of anyone since Sans last remembered being here little over a day ago.

He still had time.

Sans sighed, following his tiny trail to his practice spot, settling his back against the stone. It felt...colder than he remembered, seeping through his jacket and settling into his bones.

Was the cold the glass, or the creature inside it?

He weakly lifted his hand, wrapping it against the stone door. Like he always did.

“Knock knock.”

But nobody came.

There was no answer.

Huddled in his jacket, Sans settled in for the long watch.

It always started here.

A Tale of Consequences: Reset

Next

Previous

[katreal-fic]

A Tale of Consequences: Reset?

Undertale Fanfic. Aborted No Mercy run. Spoilers Ahead. You are Warned.

Summary:  There are no rewards or punishments - only consequences. Sans got his reset, but something seems /very/ different this time around.

Direct sequel to Continue? Please read that first!  It’s definitely gone AU now. Non-canon worldbuilding, magic and soul theory.

“If we’re really friends...don’t come back.”

 Sans jerked awake, sweat rolling down his skull, bones clattering. If he had a heart it would be racing.

The room was dim, dusty and grey. No golden light filtering through the stained glass. No blood creeping lethargically through the grooves in the tiles.

He was...alone.

Damn it. Another nightmare. He rubbed at his skull, trying to ward off the pounding headache. It’d been a long time since he’d fallen asleep in the workshop. He must have slipped off the workbench and rattled his skull against the stone tiles. What did Papyrus always tell him about falling asleep in dangerous places?

Not that he ever listened.

A chill settled into his ribcage at the thought of his brother, and he had to fight the urge to take a shortcut directly into his brother’s room. Just to make sure. The flutter of panic was familiar.

He pulled himself to his feet, gripping the edge of the cabinet with trembling fingers. He could take a shortcut. He had before. Had woken his confused brother with his desperate need to reassure himself that Papyrus was okay. That he was still there. Papyrus always took it in good humor, although Sans knew he desperately wanted to ask why. Just like Papyrus knew Sans would never answer if he asked.

No. He would take the shortcut to his own room. Wait an--he checked the dimly glowing numbers sitting on the workbench--hour or so despite Papyrus’ yelling and knocking on the door, and then saunter down to breakfast. Papyrus would scold him for being late. He’d call him lazy, strongly suggest he recalibrate his puzzles--and Sans had to admit he should probably dig up a new copy of the word search one of these days. The one out there was almost half a year old. Even a baby bones could do it. Maybe a crossword this time… heh. That would rile Papyrus up like nothing else.

It would be...normal.

Cold fire danced in his mind. The golden glow of the final corridor. A yellow tear streaked face--Alphys? That was new.

He desperately needed normal right now. For however long it lasted this time. He was never sure.

But first… Sans carefully counted the drawers on the bench. He pulled open the last one. The dusty photo album looked the same as ever. With a practiced motion he flipped it open, doing his best to ignore the pressure building behind his skull.

The sunset. So many smiling faces.

A jolt of sadness spiked through him as he traced each one, some, like Pap, Undyne, and Alph he knew quite well. Others...were only familiar enough to make his soul ache.

He shook his head and grabbed a pen out of the drawer, adding another hashmark below the photo. Seven. This was the seventh full reset since that photo. He’d stopped bothering to try and record the smaller ones. They all ended up blurred together.

32. Guess it was my fault this time, eh?

The thought bubbled to the forefront. Sans let it go. He turned the page.

And froze.

There was the scribbled drawing. The don’t forget.

But beneath it…

stop me

A child’s scrawl.

“Kiddo…”

He didn’t realize he was clenching his fist until the pen burst, painting his bones black.

Black.

Black cracks, spiderwebbing through red. Tearing it apart.

Sans dropped the mangled remains of the pen, still wet ink splattering onto the pages. He didn’t care. He wanted to wretch, the magical bile building up behind his frozen grin.

Why.

Why did it feel so raw this time? What had been different? Why did his chest feel like someone had stabbed him straight through? Like his soul wanted to splinter into pieces?

You died.

The answer that came to him was a quiet whisper he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Sans didn’t step so much as fall out of the shortcut. He knew the map values of Snowdin better than anywhere else. His lumpy laundry covered mattress was waiting for him. Sans curled in on himself.

...stop me…

...from what? His memories were in pieces, fragments mixing with nightmares mixing with the bone deep ache reverberating through time and space.

Almost… As if it were thrumming along with a phantom heartbeat.

The kid’s face, beaming in the light of the sun. The photo splattered with ink, darkness creeping across the page.

A kid he hadn’t met yet. And didn’t remember ever properly meeting. Just a face in a photograph and a half remembered promise.

...stop me…

...please…

He eventually just gave up and fell asleep. Either he’d wake up feeling better, or it’d be another nightmare. Couldn’t get much worse.

Bang.

Bang.

Tiny fists against metal. Every hit somehow resonated in his bones.

“I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE BROTHER!”

...no...not metal. The door.

Papyrus’ heavy glove against the locked wood. It rattled in its frame but didn’t budge. Sans stuffed his head under his ratty pillow. Aching. At least the rest of him didn’t feel like it was going to fall apart at a moment’s notice. Just his skull.

Bang.

He winced.

Bang.

Bang.

“SANS! IF YOU DON’T ANSWER I’M GOING TO KNOCK THIS DOOR DOWN!”

“Bro--I’m---” Sans forced himself to sit up, wincing as the incessant knocking came again. His limbs felt like lead, but he used one of those leaden arms to support his still aching head, the pressure from the bones in his hand helped. A little. He could focus on it instead of the aching.

Damn it. He was not looking forward to the next reset--because there was always a next reset--if this is what it was going to be like from now on.

As if he needed another reason to avoid dy--

Crash.

“...that’s one way to make an entrance, bro.” Sans finished somewhat lamely, eyeing the splinters of what remained of his door after his brother was through with it. Why was it so dark anyway? How early was it? Even with the door wide open it was barely any brighter in here. “I thought you were kidding about the door.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER JOKES ABOUT SUCH THINGS, BROTHER!” Papyrus was a silhouette in the door. Strong and tall, a white bone fading out of the clenched fist he’d conjured to mutilate the poor barrier. The image was so...Papyrus it nearly made Sans cry. “IF YOU DIDN’T LOCK YOUR DOOR I WOULDN’T HAVE NEEDED TO KNOCK IT DOWN.”

“If I didn’t lock my door, you’d be in here cleaning everyday.” Sans pointed out, trying to put the ache in his skull to the back of his mind. At least for now. This was Pap. He didn’t want to worry him.

He didn’t remember the nightmares well. But one thing always stood out of the worst of them all.

Pap was gone.

They were the ones that scared him the most.

“I REALLY WISH YOU’D LET ME, SANS. THIS PLACE LOOKS LIKE A DISASTER.” His brother harrumphed, crossing his arms. Sans saw his head turn, his jaw clench further, and Sans couldn’t help a chuckle. He was probably trying to figure out the tornado in the corner. “STILL, I AM GLAD NOTHING IS AMISS. YOU WON’T BELIEVE HOW WORRIED I WAS WHEN I GOT THAT CALL THIS MORNING.”

Crack.

“...phone call?”

Something felt wrong.

This whole conversation was wrong.

“I DIDN’T EXPECT IT EITHER. I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF PREPARING A DELICIOUS BREAKFAST TO TRY AND TEMPT YOU OUT OF BED WHEN I GOT A CALL FROM UNDYNE OF ALL PEOPLE. I THOUGHT FOR SURE SHE WAS CALLING TO COMPLIMENT ME ON MY PUZZLES AND DEDICATION AND MASTERFUL COOKING SKILLS, BUT INSTEAD SHE STARTED DEMANDING TO KNOW WHAT YOU DID! I ASSURED HER YOU WERE TOO LAZY TO BE DOING ANYTHING BAD, AND THEN SHE STARTED YELLING ABOUT KILLING YOU FOR MAKING ALPHYS CRY--”

...everything, even his brother’s voice faded.

...making ALPHYS cry?

“S-Sans p-please. N-not you t-too.”

“--AND I ASSURED HER THAT WHILE I KNOW YOU LIKE A PRANK NOW AND THEN, YOU NEVER WOULD MALICIOUSLY TRICK SOMEONE. WHICH GOT ME WORRIED YOU ACTUALLY HAD GOTTEN--SANS?”

He blinked, trying to shake away the deja vu before realizing how bad an idea it was with the way his head was hurting.

Ow.

“I’m ok Pap.” He hoped he managed to stop the wince in time. “Really. Just--tired.”

“BROTHER. LOOK AT ME.”

Papyrus’ long legs meant he only had to take a couple steps to cross the room, and soon he was kneeling in front of the laundry covered mattress. Sans tried to look away, but Papyrus’ surprisingly quiet “Sans.” stopped him.

A red gloved hand carefully touched touched Sans’ skull, right above his left eye-socket, drawing back instantly when Sans couldn’t suppress the flinch at the blossom of pain it caused. “YOU ARE HURT.”

“It’s no big, bro. Honest.” Sans felt more than saw the wispy green magic building around Papyrus’ fingertips, heaving a sigh. “Just fell, that’s all. You know me, eh? I’m hard-headed. It’ll be fine.”

“YOUR SKULL IS CRACKED SANS. EVEN YOUR EYE-LIGHT IS FLICKERING! YOU NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL.”

...Oh. That might be why everything was so dim. Sans didn’t protest any further. He tried not to think at all about how it happened or why it got there. All that mattered was his brother’s intense concentration as the weak green magic seeped into the cracks, sealing them.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE COME TO ME, SANS. I MAY STILL BE LEARNING BUT IT HURTS TO KNOW MY OWN BROTHER DOESN’T TRUST MY HEALING.”

“It isn’t that, bro. Promise.” Sans sighed, closing his eyes as Papyrus worked, “You’re already better at it than I ever managed.”

Papyrus did his best at everything he tried. Even if the magic was opposite his affinity.

Man, his brother was cool.

“WELL THAT ISN’T HARD TO MATCH WHEN YOU GAVE UP THE FIRST DAY.” Sans could nearly see his brother’s reproachful look, “MISS BUNNY WAS SAD WHEN YOU STOPPED COMING.”

“Yea. Well. My magic doesn’t like green. I tried at least, didn’t I?”

“ONLY BECAUSE I BEGGED YOU TO.” Papyrus clucked disapprovingly. The faint tickle of warmth from the green magic faded as Papyrus drew his hand away. Much to Sans’ discomfort the headache wasn’t gone. Just...more manageable. “THERE. IT’LL PROBABLY SCAR, BUT IT’S CLOSED. WOWIE. IT ACTUALLY LOOKS REALLY COOL. LIKE A BATTLE SCAR. DO YOU THINK I SHOULD GET ONE? SUPER COOL WARRIORS HAVE SCARS. OR EYEPATCHES. LIKE UNDYNE!”

“Nah bro, you’re the coolest as it is.” a knife to the chest, ripping a gaping scar through his battle body. Sans forced his eyes open, frozen grin hiding the horror the memory fragment brought with it. “Think about it. Warriors only get scars cuz they couldn’t dodge right?”

Papyrus never bothered to try against the k--them. He always believed in them that much.

“I--I SUPPOSE.” Papyrus mused thoughtfully, “THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHOULD BE BOTH NIMBLE AND STRONG. SOMEONE LANDING A HIT ON SOMEONE AS GREAT AND COOL AS MYSELF WOULD BE A LEGENDARY FEAT. NYEH HEH HEH.”

“Hey, maybe they’d be too scarred to even fight.”

“UGH. SANS! THAT WAS TERRIBLE!”

Sans chuckled as his brother pulled away in disgust, lurching to his feet with an irritated stomp, “AND JUST FOR THAT I’M CONFINING YOU TO YOUR BED FOR THE DAY! YOUR EYE IS STILL DIMMER THAN IT SHOULD BE AND MISS BUNNY SAYS REST AND GOOD FOOD IS THE BEST MEDICINE AFTER AN INJURY. I NEED TO DO MY ROUNDS, BUT I CAN PROMISE TO WHIP UP A BATCH OF NUTRITIOUS HOMEMADE SPAGHETTI FOR YOU TO HELP SPEED UP THE RECOVERY.”

“Hey, Eye’d never gonna turn down a good nap. A little shut eye might be just the thing.”

“UGH. WHY DOES SOMEONE AS GREAT AND WONDERFUL AS ME HAVE TO PUT UP WITH ALL YOUR TERRIBLE JOKES?”

“You know you’re smiling.”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU MUST BE FEELING BETTER IF YOU INSIST ON TORTURING ME WITH TERRIBLE PUNS.”

Sans merely grinned. Papyrus finally stormed off, moving the slam the door behind him before remembering it was in pieces on the floor.

Once he was gone, Sans allowed himself to collapse back to his pillow.

First the raw pain, and now physical damage? His memory was foggy at the best of times, but he was sure nothing like this had happened before.

...and that phone call.

He desperately itched to steal Papyrus’ phone and find out what the hell was up with Alphys. Her remembering was impossible--wait. She had cameras set up everywhere. And he was injured.

...where had he been when he fell? He’d assumed the laboratory since that’s where he woke up. But if he’d taken a shortcut…

Ah damn it his head was starting to hurt again, the room dimming further as he could only assume his eyelight winked out for a moment or two. Maybe Papyrus was right.

Maybe some rest would help.

He just hoped to whoever was listening that the kid saved before whatever happened, so he had a chance to avoid it next time. This majorly sucked.

He could afford the day. Probably. As long as he was in the forest tomorrow morning.

...promise me…

“Yeah, yeah, I got it kid.” Sans mumbled into his pillow. At least with his face stuffed into the fabric he didn’t have to deal with nearly being half blind.

...stop me…

“I guess we’ll both be having a bad time this round, eh?”

His counter remained firmly set at zero.

Taunting him.

He knew what was coming and he hated it.

There could be no waiting this time.

A Tale of Consequences: Reset

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[katreal-fic]

Continue? Chapter 6

Undertale Fanfic. Aborted No Mercy run. Spoilers Ahead. You are Warned.

Summary:  There are no rewards or punishments - only consequences. Every game over, Frisk is given a choice. Continue from their last save, or to reset. One time, a one-hit KO missed…and Frisk takes a third option. Sans won’t let this reset be the last, no matter what they want.

x-x-x

“W-we s-should t-tell t-the k-king!”

...Alphys was suddenly hit with deja vu. Had they had this conversation before?

Impossible. She’d only barely met him when his brother became a sentry. She’d seen him in the cameras, but she’d seen many people through the cameras.

“I already plan to tell him after I check a few things.” Sans’ smile didn’t change at all, but a shiver ran down Alphys’ spine anyway. She eyed him from the relative safety of her desk, trying and failing to come up with a dignified way to crawl out without embarrassing herself further. She’d kinda assumed the worst when she’d heard footsteps in her lab. Everyone else had been evacuated. Imagine her embarrassment when those fuzzy pink slippers stopped right in front of her. Sans didn’t seem to care that he was apparently talking to thin air. He continued. “Think about it Alph. How many monsters they’d killed. None of the other souls had nearly this much LV. Figured the lab was the safest place to keep ‘em. We don’t know how it would effect the king, y’a get me?”

She flushed. Oh. Well. Um. He...had a point. One she desperately tried to think about rather than the amount of people they’d—The research on LV wasn’t very thorough considering the yellow soul only managed to hit about 5 LV before the royal guard managed to take them down. A—a little time for diagnostics wouldn’t be a bad thing necessarily… Maybe they shouldn’t rush it...couldn’t risk the king after all. Sans always—static—had been the one to think about details like that.

“H-how d-did y-you e-even get h-here anyway? I h-had t-the e-elevator l-locked d-down—”

It didn’t even occur to her to ask how Sans knew about this place. His presence seemed oddly familiar here. Like a puzzle piece she never noticed had been missing. She almost felt silly for being afraid of him. Almost. She was still utterly mortified though.

“Oh, you know, just a shortcut.” Something nagged at her about that. But it was fuzzy, and slid through her grasping claws like water. God Alphys pull yourself together. Take a deep breath and pull yourself out from under the desk like a reasonable monster, not literal garbage.

She couldn’t bring herself to move.

“Sorry for breaking and entering—didn’t want to let the human die and risk the soul, you know? It’s the soul good thing to come of this nightmare.”

...that was a terrible joke. But still, it made sense in a way. She even managed a nervous smile. “I-j-just...be careful p-please. You haven’t seen what they did.”

“...trust me Alph. Eye’ve seen enough.” That frozen grin never failed, although the eyelights were barely pinpricks, “They won’t be going anywhere in that state, much less hurt anyone. Talk about a captive audience, ey?”

“I-I g-guess I c-can go find the extractor n-notes.” Alphys mumbled, hunching her shoulders and wringing her stained sleeve as she chewed on the idea. “I-if there is a w-way to separate the DT from the LV it would be safer for the k-king. I-I wish I h-had the blueprints...”

“You might have some luck checking the spare office.” The skeleton offered with a tired shrug, and a lazy handwave, “You know, the one with the broken latch?”

T-that office? With the w-weird letters on the door?

“Ya. It’s...uh...wingdings. I’m not surprised you can’t read it.”

Oops. She hadn’t meant to say anything.

He seemed to sway on his feet, those dim pinpricks of light slowly drifting from her hiding spot to the right, to her—”Hey, mind if I steal your bed for a minute? Stopping a maniac takes a lot out of you, if you know what I mean.”

“G-go a-ahead.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. She shook her head rapidly, finally working up the courage to drag herself out from under the desk. Of course he couldn’t sleep. They couldn’t leave that thing alone down there.

A gentle whirring sound, and Alphys stood to find to skeleton sprawled out on her suddenly unfolded cube bed, dead to the world. Her fists curled, trembling.

What good is an exhausted guard anyway? A thought that sounded uncomfortably like U-undyne snarked back. Let ‘im sleep while the human’s still unconscious.

R-right.

About those notes.

She shuffled down the hall, doing her best to focus on the task at hand and not on the terrorist being held alone down in the lab. She needed to round up the amalgamates. They were curious, and she didn’t want them anywhere near that thing.

Focus.

LV was dangerous. Strengthening one’s soul through the suffering of another was an act that every young monster learned was wrong. It...changed people.

Would absorbing a tainted soul have the same effect?

She could tell the king right now.

She should tell the king right now, Sans’ request or not.

Freedom was so close.

But if she—Sans—was right...

The underground was devastated.

They couldn’t afford to lose the king too.

Her world had been torn apart.

Her best friend was d-dead.

The one she l-l-lo—

Don’t cry, Alphys darling.

But...maybe she could make the world a little better for those left behind.

“There’s s-still something you c-can do…” She whispered to herself, shuffling down the dusty hallways, hugging her arms tight. Gripping her stained coat, “K-keep w-walking. If you s-stop y-you w-won’t w-want to s-start a-again.”

She just wanted to find a roomy garbage can to crawl into. Undyne would have kicked her out of it.

She had to make sure this worked.

For Undyne.

“I-I love you.”

The whispered word echoed back at her in the empty hallways. She stopped, took a deep breath, and then started walking again.

She stopped in front of the office, raising a claw and tracing the weird symbols on the nameplate.

Sans had called them wingdings. They’d always been a bit weird, but they’d always been there. Alphys barely ever gave them any thought. They were in comprehensible, but they were familiar. That same script dotted the lab. Both levels of it.

She wondered what they said, and had a sneaking suspicion she’d known once.

-static-

Steeling herself, she pushed the door open.

 x-x-x

“I—I’m not sure if this is okay, Sans.”

He glanced up at her from where he had the research notes spread out across the floor of the upstairs lab. She understood shuffled nervously, stealing glances to the monitor behind him. “I—I mean both of us u-up h-here. T-they’ve h-healed m-mostly. W-what i-if they w-wake up?”

“Ey, it’ll be fine.” San’s dismissal didn’t do much to dispel her misgivings. She worried at the sleeve of her coat, kneading the stained cloth and smoothing it out again. Scrunch. Smush. Scrunch. Smush. “Your warning system is pretty cool, no need to be so alarmed.”

She giggled nervously. Was it nervously? Did it sound a little hysterical? Aaah she didn’t know what to do she couldn’t think—

“Alph.”  The skeleton was suddenly in her face instead of across the room. “Breathe.”

She did it.

Oh.

Well.

That was better.

“Good. Don’t need ya freaking out on me doc. ” He nodded, winking. A pressure on her back eased as he drew back. She blinked. Bewildered. Standing up a little straighter.

Had he just…

“hey, don’t worry. We’ll know the moment they wake up.” He lazily motioned toward the monitor at his back.

“B-b-but…” She couldn’t let go so easily. “W-w-we don’t know what LV does to humans. In monsters i-it has a t-tendency to i-increase physical s-strength s-significantly. I-if t-they m-manage to b-break o-out—t-the e-elavator…”

“It would set off every alarm in the lab, plus the timer on the stove for good measure. It’ll be fine.”

“A-a-and there’s n-n-no way w-we c-could m-make it i-in—”

Blue. Yellow.

Alphys flinched as one eyesocket went dark, the other blazing with magic.

And...then gone.

Sans was gone.

She spun around. Bewildered. Lost. Where did he go? Where could he go? She’d just been looking at him—

Alarms blared, sending her scrambling for the monitor. Just the motion alarm thankfully, maybe the human had just rolled over or something—

She just stared.

Sans was nonchalantly standing in front of the containment chamber, waving up at the camera, his eye still flaring blue.

No. Not blue. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before.

Cyan.

Cyan magic.

Some monsters were really fast. Some, like ghosts, could just phase through solid objects. Both of those were impossible here. Blue magic was the manipulation of gravity...Was cyan magic the manipulation of space? It, along with Muffet’s purple magic was a fairly rare magical affinity, and Alphys didn’t even think she’d even seen a scan of it before. Oh god it was so exciting she needed to convince him to let her study it. She could just imagine it, it—it was like when Mew Mew meets the new enemy in season 2 and—and—

“Teleportation.” She breathed. The moment anything happened he could be down there. Another flare of magic, and he was gone again, Alphys muted the alarms, counting the seconds in her head, One...tw—

She spun as gracefully as she could on her stumpy legs. Which, to be fair, wasn’t very graceful all all. Sans stood near his previous placement, grin unchanged, although the magic faded from his eye. Near but not quite the same. Not just a straight up swap then. “Less than two seconds…” Astonished. Why hadn’t he used it during the fight with the human? Surely it would have been over quicker.

“It tires me out too quick,” Wait, had she said it outloud? Her cheeks burned in embarrassment even as he shrugged. “P—my bro wanted me to train with him when he was preparing to join the sentries. We found out fast I can’t take too many shortcuts.”

“Oh, you know, just a shortcut.”

The atmosphere suddenly wilted, the weight of the situation all but killing Alphys’ sudden enthusiasm. She...hadn’t known Sans’ brother well. Just through U-undyne’s rants and occasional praises of the boneheaded skeleton with too much heart but an admirable amount of fiery passion. They’d met once, but she really didn’t want to think about it. She really didn’t want to think about it.

Didn’t want to think of a lone winter’s night in Snowdin. Being dragged along as U-u-undyne’s +1 was a dream come true even if she knew it was just as a friend. She didn’t want to think of how proud the tall skeleton had been, serving up a plate of near frozen spaghetti. How U-undyne had caught him in a headlock, loudly demanding everyone give a round of applause for Snowdin’s newest sentry. Not that there were many people. Just Alphys. Undyne. Papyrus. And...

“Long time no see, Alph.”

Static.

“Breathe.” The suggestion snapped her out of it. The skeleton wasn’t even looking at her, seated cross legged on the floor. He tapped a finger against one fuzzy pink slipper, the other hand carefully sifting through the pile of documents before him. Alphys didn’t even know where he’d found them. She’d always used the computer to record her findings—it was so easy to lose paper and it was so messy...

bone white hands holding a clipboard, floating free...taking notes in a series of symbols she recognized but even now still had difficulty reading.

...the extractor schematics had been handwritten, hadn’t they? She’d been pouring over them all night, found in that same back office written in those same weird symbols as the name plate. Wingdings.

The beginning of a headache was building behind her eyes.

“T-tests. I should r-run the s-scans.” Turning her back, she fled.

Not that she could go very far.

The monitor was only a few meters further away, but those meters allowed her a little more space to—breathe—relax. She pointedly ignored the camera feed that took up the majority of the main screen—the alarms would tell her if anything happened—and instead the keys clattered as she typed a few prompts into the command line. Another screen appeared, covering the live feed partially, although if she squinted she could still make it out through the semi-transparent window. She didn’t want to though.

The human’s soul was a tiny heart in the corner. The magical profile matched the red magic, but she searched for the records from the more generalized diagnostic equipment on a side monitor. To her surprise, they’d been activated longer than she expected. The records stretched at least four hours before Sans had approached her. Given the readings, it was a good thing. The human would have died within the hour if the container’s healing aura hadn’t been activated. It’d taken over half a day for the human to stabilize as it was.

But...

This wasn’t right.

She’d built that machine. She’d built it in an attempt to stabilize the amalgamates, pumping harvested green magic through an amplifier to try and support their failing bodies.

Not even the king knew about it, a-although she had planned on making the commands more user friendly and releasing it to the public. Eventually. The coding was a mess.

Sans always had been good with machines...

Static.

...right?

“...you okay?” She looked away, Sans hadn’t moved, but she could feel his eyelights prickling her spines.

“I—I—” She took a deep breath again. Despite the details not adding up, something was still telling her to trust him. Somehow he knew what she’d done. And that knowledge was both a weight easing from her back and yet another noose around her neck.

She balled her claws into a fist. Did she ask? Did she dare? Could she summon the courage to stop with all the lies?

“I-it’s j-just...weird.” She finished lamely, deflating. Of course. If she couldn’t even tell Undyne about it, why could she tell essentially a complete stranger? “I-I’m looking at t-the DT l-levels r-recorded since you brought it in. I-it...changed, see?”

She tensed as she heard the shuffling of cloth and paper, but still didn’t turn, hyper aware of the approaching footfalls as the skeleton leaned over her hunched shoulder. Her claws shook as she pointed out the trend, plotting the array of numbers onto a graph. Ups and downs. Ups and downs. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was explaining. No one else really knew about DT—she was the only one left of the team who studied it.

...team?

“A-a-anyway. H-human s-souls s-shouldn’t do that. I-I have the baselines f-from the o-other six souls. T-they have a b-base DT rating, usually b-between 7 and 8, depending on the strength of the s-soul. M-monsters can get as high as 2 safely—” Oh god I’m rambling stop it Alphys breathe at least it’s Sans not Dr— “b-but this... i-it’s g-got a below a-average b-baseline, o-only 6, b-but it’s d-dipped a-as l-low as 5 and s-spiked a-as high a-as 9 a-at times.”

Sans’ sharp intake a breath startled her, but he didn’t really seem to want to say something so she continued, “I-it c-could be t-that s-souls stabilize to t-their b-base DT o-once t-they are e-extracted—this is the f-first t-time I-I’ve s-scanned a s-still l-living one. That t-the levels change at all is fascinating, if human souls are more flexible than o-originally t-thought—I w-would h-have t-thought they b-be m-more r-rigid—”

“Do you have the data for their LV too?”

Alphys mentally smacked herself. She’d gone on a tangent again. They weren’t here to study the DT. She nervously shook her head. “I-I—we—I-it j-just w-wasn’t an area of r-research we have m-much data for.  I—d-during the w-war o-one of the previous scientists m-managed t-to create a s-scale to q-quantify LV gain in m-monsters, b-but it never w-was a priority research on the human s-souls a-after w-we w-were trapped. U-unless w-we can figure out how to isolate the LV in s-scans, e-even if the DT readings are promising signs t-that a human s-soul is f-flexible e-enough to s-survive the r-removal…”

“If I show you the pattern, think you could copy it doc?”

She stopped. Froze. And then finally turned around. And squeaked. She hadn’t realized he was so close. Here snout was mere centimeters away from the fluff of her jacket. Sans hadn’t been looking at her, although his eyelights did flicker in her direction and he took a step back to give her more space. His shoulders were still slouched. His posture still relaxed. Skull grinning that same old grin…

… but for some reason it just made her even more nervous.

x-x-x

A Tale of Consequences: Continue?

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[katreal-fic]

Continue? Chapter 5

Undertale Fanfic. Aborted No Mercy run. Spoilers Ahead. You are Warned.

Summary:  There are no rewards or punishments - only consequences. Every game over, Frisk is given a choice. Continue from their last save, or to reset. One time, a one-hit KO missed…and Frisk takes a third option. Sans won’t let this reset be the last, no matter what they want.

Click.

Click.

Clack.

Claws nervously tapped against the desk, careful to avoid the keys that would change the view. She’d already done it. Twice. In the last half hour. Leaving the human alone and taking a nap--even in one of the reinforced containment cells --was madness! What was Sans thinking? He’s seen what it did! He’d stopped it. Saved the king.

Stopped it.

Should have killed it. The nasty section of her mind whispered. It killed mettaton and undyne and undyne. No one can kill undyne, but it did. One shot, and she was already dead. She was just too stubborn to die.

Poor beautiful stubborn determined undyne. That determination killed her.

Alphys shook her head furiously, arm lashing out against the onslaught of despair threatening to crawl up her spine and overtake her, reducing her to a quivering crying heap of garbage. Plastic cases clattered against the floor, thrown from the desk in her desperate swipe. She stared at them for a moment, before it clicked and she gasped, scrambling on the floor to clean them up. N-not… N-no.

She’d...been packing. Those were the ones U-undyne Undyne watched with her. No. No. No.

She clutched a copy of The Seven Sailor Samurai to her chest. She couldn’t see the box art anymore. It was...too...blur…

Sniff.

Oh No.

Something wet tickled her hide. She hurriedly wiped it away with the dirty sleeve of her labcoat. No. No tears. No.

Don’t cry Alphys darling. I’m going to burn the brightest I can be to light your way to safety!

She shuddered against the memory of Mettaton’s final text. She’d kept the monsters barricaded in the True Lab even as the demon proceeded to exterminate those she hadn’t been able to evacuate, ushering them through the emergency elevator to the capital where the king had arranged with the ferry guides to scatter them amongst the underground. But there had been so many and the demon would be on them before they’d gotten them all through. And she couldn’t keep them in the lab. Not with the Amalgamates and the high levels of DT down here.

Mettaton had bought them time.

Don’t cry Alphys darling.

Undyne hadn’t sent her anything. Why should she? She never once believed she could fail. Mettaton had known he would. He known he would--

Don’t cry.

Don’t cry.

Don’t…

Tell blooky I--I’m sorry. For leaving.

Napstablook hadn’t been part of the evacuation. She wasn’t even able to fulfill her friend’s dying wish.

It was all that demon’s fault. Everything.

...everything.

Her phone lay on the floor, a black spot against the blinding white. The incoming message light blinked up at her. Transfixing her tear-blurred gaze. She wasn’t crying. Not yet. It wasn’t crying until they fell. She wouldn’t let it. Mettaton told her…

And Undyne never did like crybabies.

Everything.

She reached for the phone.

The motion sensor on the monitor screamed at her, startling her half out of her hide and sending her diving under her desk. Head down and eyes covered and trembling. She cowered there for a moment before she managed to get her erratic breathing under control enough crawl out. Scolding herself for overreacting.

Skittish little Alphys. Jumping at alarms you set yourself. What would Un--

Her throat tightened, threatening to suffocate her.

Focus. You set that alarm for a reason!

Claws dug into the desk’s rim as she pulled herself off the floor. Focusing on the movement of her chest as she pulled in air and exhaled. Forcing it passed the lump in her throat.

The pulsing warning symbol still flashed in the corner, although she quickly hit the keystrokes to mute the audible alarm. She didn’t need that grating on her already frayed nerves too.

The human hadn’t moved. It was still huddled in a pitiful looking ball against the glass. She quickly pulled up the feed from the monitoring instruments in a separate window. A quick glance showed that everything looked normal. So what had set off the sensors--

The amalgamate again. She shuddered as it materialized inside the cell. Her claws left grooves in the edges as she clamped down again in her panic. No. No. Get out.  They may be her personal nightmares, but there were innocent. Innocent! They didn’t deserve what the demon would do! She’d herded the others into the generator room as soon as she’d noticed Sans and his...prisoner arrive. How, she didn’t know. She hadn’t heard the palace’s elevator activate, and last she saw them was in the judgement hall...

But a door wouldn’t stop the tall one. Just like the glass didn’t. Alphys didn’t see it very often. She tried to remember who it had been, but it was old. One of the first. Name and face and history fading into static. It was just tall, smooth and willowy. She resisted the urge to cover her eyes, yelling at the screen and hating herself for not having installed a PA system. “SANS! SANS! WAKE UP!”

She grabbed her phone, barely glancing at the text. The King. Before running. Sprinting as fast as her awkward frame could take her toward the elevator. She didn’t have the skeleton’s number. What would U-u-un--she do?

What else? Go protect those she’d wronged.

“Saaaaaaaans!” She burst through the door, wheezing and gasping and coughing from the dust her flight had clicked up. Then she stopped.

The amalgamate was outside now, its long deformed arm slowly tucking a dark blue blanket around the exhausted skeleton’s shoulders. It didn’t seem to notice her at all. Pat. Pat.

Once. Twice. It’s long white hand lingered against the smooth bones of Sans’ skull. And then it faded away.

The skeleton hadn’t so much as twitched at her shout, or at the amalgamate’s attentions. Sleeping like the dead. It was only the gentle bobbing of his skull that told her he was alive at all.

She took a step. And then another, peering into the semi-opaque green glass.

A matching blanket was tucked around the demon inside the cell.

Alphys trembled. Her claws clattering against the metal of her phone.

They couldn’t stay here.

The king would know what to do.

He would deal with the demon for good.

And then t-they w-would be free.

J-just like...U-undyne w-would w-want...

“Doc…”

She froze. A single blue-ringed eye was regarding her from over the faded blue blanket, “What have you done, doc?”

A hand came out, the blanket slipping off his shoulder and into his lap. The magic engulfing his eye burned brighter, a small blue flame in one single eye socket. She scrambled back--w-why was she a-afraid of S-sans o-of a-all p-people?

“T-the king deserves to k-know.” She managed to sputter, the phone clattering to the floor from her suddenly sweaty claws, message sent blinking up at them both in the dim light, “W-with t-that s-soul h-he’ll s-save u-us a-all.”

“My bad, kid. It’ll have to be 31.”

He jerked his fist up, Alphys flinched, curling in on herself to protect from the attack--

The bones erupted from the floor of the cell, piercing the human’s chest.

Tale of Consequences

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