I Found You

Gosho Aoyama respectively owns Detective Conan. I would like to apologize beforehand if the characters seem OOC.

It was late. Oji-san was only supposed to be gone for a few more hours at a nearby bar and Ran had gone over to Sonoko's house to sleepover. Ran wanted to bring Conan with her, but Sonoko said she didn't want to take care of the "death-bringing chibi". Conan couldn't seem to sleep without the loud snores from Oji-san. He was quietly residing on the sofa in front of the TV reading Conan Doyles Hound of the Baskervilles. There was a sharp, hurried rap at the door.

Conan sighed and set down his book. Some people had no shame. It was obviously past 11 pm and no lights were on except for Conan's book light. It was apparent no one was up. Couldn't they wait for morning for a case?

Conan trudged to the door, legs still fuzzy from curling on the couch for so long. The rap came again.

"Hai…Hai." Conan muttered groggily. He unlocked the door but not the switch lock. He kept that on in case the customer was hostile. The door only opened a crack do to the stopper. Conan looked up to see who would disturb a sleeping family of three in the middle of the night.

His breath caught in his throat. This had to be a nightmare. This was not real. Ohnoohnoohnoohno…

Conan slammed the door shut and relocked it. He heard a gun click. Gin shot the handle on the door. Conan opened the bathroom door, put a lock on it and slammed it (before throwing a transmitter inside) and then ran into the kitchen to hide under the sink before the door was kicked open. Conan heard someone, most likely Vodka, shoot the stopper in the way.

"Check the bathroom for the brat," He heard Gin say in that wolfish voice, "He's probably not in there, but do it anyway."

"Aniki," Vodka replied, "Isn't he in there though? I heard the door slam. I know you did too."

"Damn brat is a smart little fox. He did that to confuse us."

Conan's heart pounded in his chest. He lifted his bowtie to his lips and began to breathe heavily into it. He added in some gulping for effect.

"C'mere, kiddy kiddy." Vodka coaxed. Conan couldn't believe he was buying his little trick. Conan listened for Gin's footsteps. The man was silent when he wanted to be. They're going to kill me. I'm going to die!

The cupboard right next to Conan opened wide. If the trash can hadn't been there, he would have been seen ! Gin was so close. Conan felt sweat trickling down his back and into his pajama bottoms. Gin closed the cupboard. Conan took this moment to quickly switch positions and switch to the other side of the garbage can. Gin opened the other one Conan was just in. Satisfied with the lack of a body, Gin closed the door.

Conan counted to twenty, his breath coming out shakily. He quietly crawled out from under the sink and took a dare to look out into the living room. No one. They were here somewhere. If he could just make it to the door, he could run for it. They may be bigger, but he was smaller and faster. Breathe, Shinichi, Conan commanded himself, just breathe. Conan tensed his legs then sprinted for the door. He wrenched it wide open. He made it in the hall. Down the stairs, Shinichi! You can make it! Conan thought to himself, taking two steps at a time. He was in the lobby! He was about to get to the door, when he felt a strong grip on his collar. He tried to cry out, but a huge, meaty paw clasped over his mouth. Kicking didn't work. To Vodka, it felt like a small animal patting his leg.

"You really are a tricky little thing, aren't you?" It wasn't a question. Besides, Conan couldn't really respond due to his predicament at the moment. Vodka called his partner over.

"I got him!"

Gin smiled, but his eyes were cold. Conan stopped kicking. His blood felt like ice. If they found him, what about Haibara? Haibara! Run, Haibara! RUN! He silently begged. Gin stopped in front of him and glowered. Are they going to kill me here, or somewhere desolate like Miyano Akemi?

"Hey, Aniki, can you hold 'im for a second?" said Vodka, "I need to get the chloroform out of my pocket and I don't want him screaming."

"He won't scream," Gin said matter-of-factly, placing the barrel of his gun onto Conan's abdomen, "If he does, I'll shoot him." He sounded almost bored. Like kidnapping and killing children was normal for him. Vodka smiled nervously, removing his hand from Conan's mouth to reach into his back pocket. Conan glared at Gin, keeping his lips firmly shut. He didn't trust himself to speak. The lights swam as Vodka pressed the sickly sweet cloth over his nose. The last thing Conan saw before passing out was Gin's icy blue eyes.

What will happen next? Dun-dun-duuuuuun! I will probably be working on chapter two figuring out something sadistic. Maaaybe plot out a rescue.