Rejuvenate Chapter 6

Hello guys, I'm writing to you from the airplane ride back home. *Clapclap* Finally home after a month of California. Looks like it will be a while before I can write again. A lot of summer assignments to catch up on. Class starts in a few weeks.

Well, I didn't get to give you any Kaito last chapter, so this one will be a Kaito chapter. For all you Kaito!whump fans out there, this one is for you. For those waiting for the detectives to get some action in, the previous and next chapter is yours.

Thanks for waiting, loves. Enjoy.

Day 04

The boy was like a doll. He thought in amusement.

Mr. Blanc smiled as he watched the Kaitou Kid sleep on the soft mattress in front of him.

A full day had past and the thief was still trapped under a sleep wrought by utter exhaustion. His dark eyes twitched every so often under closed lids. He muttered in his slumber frequently, hands clenched into trembling fists. His lean chest was quivering as if he was not getting enough air to breathe.

Beautiful. The man gently sat down on the bed, the mattress dipping forward and moving the thief invitingly closer. He reached out to brush the child's fringe to the side, feeling the dirt and dried blood crumble in his hands. He pulled the blanket off with his other hand. The rags he wore were stained with questionable liquids and dark maroon was a common sight on almost every part of exposed porcelain-like skin.

The boy would need a bath when he woke.

Kid moaned softly under his touch, his head tilting to the side in order to avoid his ministrations. But that was no problem, Blanc understood. Rejuvenate was not a gentle drug. No…it was merciless. Other clients and even his own colleagues believed that it was alright to abuse their services until they became a drooling, mindless mess on the floor -there was an appeal to that he had to admit.

But he would rather have a pet that had personality…a little fight.

He smiled at the soft noises the thief made and caressed his lightly bruised cheek. Most of the bruises were yellowing and healing so Blanc wasn't too worried. The cuts were nearly gone, only the baby pink of new skin remained but it would darken in due time. His skin was very soft.

Kid twitched some more, his lips curled into a frown as he fought the demons in his dreams.

Blanc knew what was happening. It happened all the time with Rejuvenate subjects.

Their memories are broken down as they sleep. Their past lives…flashing by their eyes like dreams before disappearing without a trace.

He wondered what memories the thief was struggling to keep right now.

"Shhh…. it's all right, accept it. Don't fight it." He whispered sweetly into the boy's ears. Kid unconsciously shook his head back and forth, muttering soft protests. His chest heaved up and down faster in his panicked state. But the excitement soon died down as a different dream flashed before the thief's mind.

Blanc's fingers trailed down to hover over the thief's uncovered left eye. The jewelry case that held the monocle was sitting innocently on the drawer besides the bed.

Right…soon…he isn't going to be Kid anymore.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out another jewelry case.

With gentle movements, he pulled the item out of the case and put an arm under Kid's neck-his skin felt so cold and clammy.

He clasped the eyepiece over the closed eye and connected the metal straps around the back of his head with an audible click. He tucked the key in his pockets with another smile.

Slowly…piece by piece…destroy his identity. Leave him with nothing to recognize.

He lowered his head back down on the pillow and left a soft peck on the thief's brow.

He then sat back and waited.

Fear

It was suffocating him, leaving him without a breath.

He couldn't see anything, not even his own two hands. But he could feel the cold, damp sweat that made his shirt stick to his back uncomfortably. His stomach was in knots, making him want to vomit.

There was no escaping the void he had been thrown into.

It was too dark, it was too deep.

It was too endless.

They were everywhere.

He couldn't see it but he could feel it.

Cold-his body was trembling.

Slimy-crawling up his limbs without any hint of pausing.

Millions-they were eating him alive.

And they snarled-help-and bit-god someone please help him-he could not escape. They-

They…what?

What were they?

The darkness gradually disappeared. It was as if someone poured a bucket of white paint over the black canvas. The light dripped down, making the nightmare disappear. And the only thing that remained was...

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

The paint erased all his fear, covering it up with the feeling of nothing.

He didn't remember what he was so terrified of.

It was…nice.

A choked gasp escaped his lips as he shot up, his hands grasping at the rags-why was he wearing rags?-he wore. Glancing down, he noticed the blood that clung to his skin.

Why was he covered in blood? Why was he waking up now? What the hell happened? The questions flooded through his mind like a hurricane. The answers washed away from him by waves before he could get a firmer grasp on them. What was he doing here?

Why the hell was his vision halved? He blinked again to make sure. It wasn't a mistake, he could only see out of one eye.

"What? No no no." He muttered, lifting his hands to touch the eye that was usually covered by a monocle.

There was no monocle there. Instead there was….

He fingered the contraption with a soft cry of surprise. It was metal, there were engravings in it but he could not make out the shapes.

What the hell was this thing?

He pulled at the metal scraps that kept the eyepiece secure around his head. They wouldn't budge. He yanked and yanked, curses spilling from his lips as he grew more desperate.

They took his monocle. They saw his face. Did they show the police? Did the task force know what he looked like? Does Nakamori-keibu know? Is he mad? Is he worried? What the fuck is this thing?

His breaths were shallow and quick as he imagined the straps tightening around his head until it exploded. Too tight too tight, get it off me!

He pulled at where the straps connected in the back and felt a tiny box. He pulled and nothing happened, to his despair. His fingers found a small hole.

A hole?….A keyhole. Keyhole, it unlocks using a key. Key, where's the key? There's no key!

His hands fell to his sides to grasp at the…sheets?

His eyes darted down to stare at the dark red blanket that pooled around his bare legs.

In his panic, he hadn't even noticed his surroundings.

What….

Then it all came back.

The heist. The soft footsteps. The sudden pain. The kidnapping. The vulnerability. The humiliation. The photos. The darkness. The cold water. The men. The touches. The tears. The rap-

He stopped his own thoughts in order to shudder, sweat dripping down his dirtied face.

No, never think about that again. Stop thinking about it.

But he remembered now.

It wasn't a dream. If it was, his mind must be pretty damn elaborate.

But that means...

The camera. There was a camera in the room before. And he had heard Nakamori-keibu's voice.

They knew.

They all saw.

His face began to burn in humiliation. The task force saw it all. They saw how low he had been brought down. They saw his state of undress. They saw the blood. They saw the cuts. They saw the bruises. All of them, even the ones between his le-

Stop stop stop stop.

He took a deep, shuddering breath with his eyes clenched shut.

He had to escape.

Looking around, he noticed that the room was extremely luxurious-much more than the first bedroom he was put in. He was sitting on a large bed that enveloped him in soft pillows and blankets. He almost felt sorry for dirtying them with his filthy body.

Speaking of which-he looked down and examined his body with fearful eyes. He wondered how he had looked on camera. Shameful. Dirty. Embarrassing. Disgusting. Failure. His humiliated mind supplied him with several words that he chose to ignore.

But to his surprise, his skin was unblemished. The cuts on his arms for scratching a man were now white streaks. He touched the bruised cheek he had gotten when he bit the Dutch man that tried to stick his tongue down his thro-stop stop stop-but his face didn't throb.

The wounds….were…gone? Could it be the drug that they injected him with? What was in that syringe?

A knock at the closed, wooden doors made him jump. He casually pulled the covers over his exposed body to hide his trembling fists.

He didn't want to answer it. He wanted the doors to get stuck. He needed more time to calm down, think and find an escape route. He didn't want anyone to walk in. He didn't want them to rap-

Think other things, damn it.

The doors did not heed his silent pleas and opened without a creak. His shoulders tensed as he glanced around for some sort of weapon.

Grabbing the only thing he could think of-the lamp-he raised the makeshift weapon cautiously.

A man walked in and his grip on the lamp tighten. No..no...no more no more.

The man was tall and handsome. With locks of dirty blonde hair combed to the side and a dashing goatee, the man looked young and charming.

The man was pushing a cart with cloth over the top.

"Ah, it seems that you are awake, boy. Come now, put down that lamp. It complements the tapestry perfectly." He spoke in English, his voice velvet and smooth. It took Kid a moment or two to comprehend what he had said.

"…What?" He nearly flinched at the sound of his own voice. It was scratchy and hoarse. The complete opposite of the well dressed man before him.

He looked up to glare at the man directly, opening his mouth to demand answers. But he froze.

His eyes.

They were grey and cold. There was a glint there that screamed danger and it chilled the thief to his core.

BANG

His face was a mess of gore and crimson as he toppled off the thief in a bloody heap.

He stalked forward like a predator studying his prey before going in for the kill.

"A-apologies, Monsieur! We-"

"God have mercy! My gratitude!"

"Thank you, Mr. Blanc!"

Blanc. It was Blanc. The man who had killed without batting an eye.

Poor thing. The sickly sweet voice echoed in his mind and he felt nauseous. So much blood, the iron smell suffocating. His trembling hands fell limp and the lamp crashed to the ground with a shattering sound. He jumped and glanced down at the broken pieces. He cursed himself for showing so much weakness. The Kaitou Kid did not show vulnerability. And yet he hadn't stopped breaking his poker face since he was captured. Embarrassing.

"Tsk, I told you to put it down. Now it's broken." The man sighed regretfully but did not sound mad. He continued walking over towards the bed, pushing the cart.

Before he could control himself, he was already backing away towards the headboard of the bed, his eyes wide. Stop showing fear, damn it. Control yourself.

"Your throat must be parched. Here." The man smiled, not reacting to the thief's panicked state. He pulled the cloth off the cart slowly to allow the thief to see his every movement. He grabbed the glass of water and held it out to the teen.

Kid stared up at the man-carefully avoiding his eyes-then looked down at the glass of water. It looked so appealing to his throbbing throat. The beads of condensation on the glass dripped from the man's fingers to the floor. He swore he could hear the plop as the droplets hit the ground. He swallowed and looked away.

Blanc let out a breath, sounding amused.

"If water is not to your liking. I have something else." He hummed, the smile never leaving his face. He walked back to the cart and picked up a tray.

"I think it's best if you had stew for now. A proper meal will be given to you when you're feeling up to it. Although…" He let out a chuckle and showed the thief the dish. "It's a pretty hearty stew. I had the chef make bouillabaisse."

The steam that came from the bowl travelled to his nose and Kid could barely suppress a growl. Because damn it, he was starving. The last time he had eaten was the piece of bread the Japanese man had shoved down his throat along with a glass of lukewarm water thrown at his face. There was a gnawing pain in his stomach and he swallowed again.

He spared the tray a glance, ignoring Blanc's innocent looking smile.

Damn it. Don't show it, Kaito. Keep it together. Don't eat their food. You can eat when you escape. Stop looking for fuck sakes.

But even as he stared at the dish, he felt nauseous. There was an uncomfortable lump in his throat as he saw the contents of the stew.

He felt sick and disgusted.

But...by what?

He felt his heart pound and echo in his ears, wondering what the hell it was.

Was he allergic to something in the dish? The mussels? The potatoes? The peppers? The fish? He didn't know.

Unable to stare at it any longer, he shuddered and turned his head away.

It's probably spiked anyways, Kaito. You're not missing out on anything. When you get out of here, you can treat yourself to the biggest piece of Tiramisu out there. Better yet the entire cake. Just bear it for now.

He heard the man chuckle and didn't dare look back.

"That's a shame. I had the chef put in langoustine too. It's not every day we get such expensive stock." There was a clinking of silverware and the thief twitched when he heard the man take a sip of the meal.

"Mmm, I'll have to give my compliments to the chef...well if you're not going to eat, you should at least clean yourself up. Or do you want to stay in those rags, boy?"

Stop calling me that. He flinched and looked down at his body. Dirty with blood and stains of whit-he felt sick.

He didn't want to stay filthy for another second.

He wanted it gone.

"You don't have to scratch at your arms so relentlessly either. We have bathrooms here." Blanc laughed and Kid glared at him again. His arms stung.

"What did you do with my monocle?" He kept his voice as steady as he could. His monocle was the only thing he had left here to remind him of home. To remind him of dad.

"Oh yes, your monocle. Quite a unique thing." Blanc smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a jewelry case.

"…Give it back…" He tried to keep himself from snarling out his demand and barely managed.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. You won't be able to put it on anyways."

His hands went up to tug at the eye patch again. A glint caught his eye and he looked up at the man.

A key.

Blanc was holding the key teasingly between two fingers.

Something in him snapped.

"Give it back!" Ignoring his fear for just a moment, he growled-damn it he wanted this thing off of him- and launched himself towards the man holding the key.

He was tired of all this. He just wanted to go home. And they had taken away the only familiar thing away from him. Instead they put their own device on him. They marked him. He couldn't get rid of it and the Kaitou Kid did not belong to anyone.

He was mildly shocked when his hands grasped the front of Blanc's suit jacket. He didn't…try to dodge?

Several things ran through his mind. He didn't have any of his gadgets with him. Should he just use force? He could grab the lamp-no wait the lamp is broken. Are there more men outside? Decide already!

His hands twitched when he heard Blanc chuckle. Why hasn't he retaliated yet?

"You should really clean yourself up."

He made the mistake of looking into the man's eyes again.

Blanc was smiling but his eyes were-

Cold, grey, dangerous, unhinged, crazy, psychotic, torturing, sadistic-

His hands unclasped themselves nerveless from Blanc's shirt and fell to his sides.

Blanc's smile never faltered from his face.

"The restroom is to your left. I'll have clothes prepared for you." He turned around smoothly, his hands on the cart.

"I'll leave this here in case you change your mind." The glass of water was placed on the drawer on top of a coaster.

It was only until he heard the door shut did he noticed how his entire body was shaking in utter terror. He had had the man in his grip and yet he felt as powerless as if he had been tied down in chains. He had never met someone with eyes like that. He had lost his ability to comprehend for a moment.

After blinking several times, he began to decipher Blanc's words. Looking to his left, he saw that there was indeed a large door.

The bathroom…right he...he needed to clean himself up. He grimaced at his arms and legs and moved to get off the bed.

He avoided the mess of glass and wires on the floor and made his way towards the bathroom. A sharp pain shot up his spine with every step and he forced himself to ignore it. Don't look down, don't look down.

Instead he looked around the room. At the cabinets, the closets, the wall-

He paused on his trek, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he changed course to walk towards the wall.

It was a painting. It wasn't all that big-60 by 40 cm perhaps? But...

He stopped right in front of the picture, eyes unblinking as he tried to understand it. His fingers shook a bit as he lightly touched it, fearing he'd ruin it. It was oil on wood.

And the image...it was...he had no idea what it was. It looked like a man...as well as a woman. But it also looked like a dragon...a dog...a bird...maybe even a bull. It didn't matter what or who it looked like, it was a beast of hell. A devil that danced on the souls of the damned as they burned in an eternal fire. The inferno broils within the jaws of a colossal devil fish with sharp fangs and undead eyes. The demon creature smiles gleefully from two places. It smiles from the face and grins from the other face on the stomach. It dances happily as it waves a banner that proclaims 'In Inferno, nulla est redemptio'

It was an unsettling painting and he couldn't turn away.

But he knew Blanc would be back in any moment. His pallor grew paler as he thought about it. Turning his head away from the gruesome art, he stalked over to the bathroom, hands on the handle as he took deep breaths.

Once he got cleaned up, he would think of an escape plan. He told himself repeatedly. There was no need to worry. He was the Kaitou Kid, he could handle this. Escaping would be easy.

It will all be okay.

Yeah...keep telling yourself that Kaito-kun. *Sobs for the poor child* Oh boy, you're in for a lot more pain than this.

Well now I am no longer on an airplane (Took me two days to stop procrastinating and edit this OTL) But yes I'm back home safe and sound (Although landing during a thunderstorm was really an adrenaline rush and I enjoyed the sudden bouts of weightlessness way more than I should have.)

Okay, I guess I should explain some things then.

bouillabaisse- This is a French fish stew (Yes I know, fish.) It used to be a poor fisherman's meal made with the small fish that would not sell at the market. But now it's a home dish that has a lot of other good things in it, served with baguettes. Most commonly found in it are vegetables, mussels, clams and sometimes even crab (I'm writing this info from memory, I hope I am correct. If you have better knowledge on this and need to correct me, feel free to!)

langoustine- This is a type of lobster. From Norway, I believe. It's really small though. Different from the typical lobsters that you usually see.

The painting is 'Hell' painted by Hans Memling. You can find it online. It took me a while to find the right disturbing painting that would match my imagery. After searching through many paintings, I settled with this one. The description was inspired by art critic Laura Cummings comments on the painting. The words on the banner...Hehehe I think you can tell what it says ;3

As for what Mr. Blanc looks like ah...I don't know maybe Zachary Levi's Fandral from 'Thor: The Dark World'. (Unf now that was a hunk of gorgeous) Ahhh no clue but he'd be good-looking though pfft

Thank you for reading and hopefully you enjoyed. There will be more on the detectives next chapter. reviews and suggestions are appreciated, see you soon!