Detective Conan FF: ♤The Poisoned Trio♤ (English)

Chapter 5

"Ey, that's my ice cream!" shouted a little boy, his dark blond short hair tousled, his brown eyes shining in the sunlight. The sky was gloriously blue, the clouds floating overhead like a flock of fluffy sheep. "I just wanted to try it!" the girl giggled, handing the ice cream back to her friend. In the background, leaves toasted in the wind, the green of the trees mingling with the vibrant yellow of the sand. Many other children were playing in the sand, but only the two of them preferred to sit on the bench, in the shade, enjoying the ice cream.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" the boy wanted to know. "Yes! I told you strawberry tastes the best!" the girl replied, grinning. Her face was beaming. Nothing could go wrong on this day; it was actually like any day in summer. "You know what else we can do in a minute?" the girl suggested. The boy's eyes widened. "What?" he bent over curiously. "We're going to walk the neighbor's dog! He always says I do such a great job," the girl told him happily. "Oh yeah!" the boy agreed, then the two of them jumped up and rushed to the neighbor's house.

♠♠♠

Nick tried to get his breathing under control. Exhausted, the boy with brown hair looked in the mirror. His tired eyes reflected. What had he done? Gin would be anything but thrilled. Hastily, he ran the cold water and tried to wash off the dried blood. Pain rose in him as he reopened the wounds on his fists. He looked for a towel but found none. With wet hair and face, he bent over the sink. Just don't think too much. Don't think. But his thoughts did not obey him.

YOU screwed up.

YOU are not in control.

YOU are a monster.

Nick shook his head, trying to think clearly, but the images full of blood jumped into his head. He saw in his mind's eye his fists pounding into his face faster and faster. "Fuck," he gasped. With a cursory glance, he looked at the CD, the blood still clinging to the packaging. Vermouth was probably already waiting for him, he'd better hurry. Until now he lived in a small room, at the base of the black organization, but soon he was going to move. He was about to go out when there was a knock. Nick opened the door and saw the smiling Vermouth in front of him.

"Am I interrupting?" she wanted to know. Sweat still ran down the back of Nick's neck. "No, I was just about to hand you the CD," he replied weakly. His voice trembled a little. Vermouth eyed him for a moment. "Are you all right, Dubonnet?" she asked calmly, no, too calmly. It was as if she was trying to trigger something in him with her words. Nick tried shallow breathing, which didn't work. His heart was hammering against his ribs, pain rising in his veins. "Yeah, I'm just tired," he replied firmly. Vermouth took over the CD, looking curiously at the blood.

"Interesting," she murmured, "The job's done. Let's move on to the next," the woman said, smiling coolly. Her fingernails flashed. Dubonnet tried to look curious. "You'll be moving and working with two more agents. No more questions so far. I'll send you the address, all right?" she explained curtly. Dubonnet nodded gravely. "Instructions from above," she chuckled, then turned to leave. "Sleep well, Niki," she whispered, closing the door. A little overwhelmed, Nick looked at the door.

This woman was unique, but whether that was good or bad, he couldn't tell until now. Nick decided to take a quick shower and dropped onto the bed, drained. His gaze pierced the ceiling, the darkness clinging to him. Slowly his eyes fell to fatigue, and a few minutes later he was asleep.

He ran. No, he wanted to run. But he could not. Cautiously, he opened his eyes. Where was he? What had happened? Nick tried to move, but he was hanging in the air. His arms twisted upward, tied to the ceiling. "Shit," it wheeled out of him, the silence pressing on his brain, nothing was moving, no one was there. Vaguely, he remembered that he was supposed to spy on a Polish mafia smuggling drugs from Russia.

They had caught him.

Nick tried to look around; he was naked except for his underpants. Hot sweat ran down his skin, it was so unbearably hot in here. Nick tried to move his hands, but the cable only ate deeper into his skin. "Fuck," he cursed one more time. Then he heard it. It was a breath. Someone was behind him. It was a man. Suddenly it was at his ear. His voice was rough and deep. Something he said, but the boy with brown hair could not understand it. "

FSB" was the word, which made Nick's blood freeze in his veins. The man stepped in front of him, he was massive and tall, and in his arms, he held something. "I don't know anything, I, I-.", Nick wanted to say, but his throat was dry, and the man stared at him grimly. He said something again. The next moment the whip struck him, the pain made him scream.

"Please...I...don't...know...anything," the boy gasped. Warm blood oozed from the wounds. The man growled, then continued to whip. Nick felt the rope on his thighs, then on his stomach, on his back. "Arg," he growled, gritting his teeth. What was he going to do? All at once, the whipping stopped. Astonished, Nick dared to open his eyes. The man had taken a few steps back. Now he was grinning. Something metallic shone in his hand. Something sharp. A knife.

Bathed in sweat, Nick jumped up, sweeping the lamp off the table with his hand. It had only been a nightmare. Nothing more, just a stupid dream. Nick tried to calm down when his cell phone vibrated. It was a message from Vermouth. The address to the new hiding place.

♠♠♠

Ash folded up her textbook and was finally able to stretch. It was exhausting to go to school during the day and work for the organization at night at the same time. She put the things in her backpack. Her thoughts were a pure jumble. She still couldn't get that Dubonnet guy out of her head. What an aloof codger. A Russian rat, that's what he was!

She would have liked to crush him against the nearest wall, but no, Vermouth needed him. She rolled her eyes and loosened her braid. Still, her thoughts circled him. His look. His eyes. He was looking for something, deep in his anger there was something Ash hadn't seen in a long time. Compassion, empathy, and something real. 

He's a NOC, it flashed through her mind. He was just lying. He was a miserable rat.

Or was there something more?

Was there something real behind this false mask? A normal boy who also had feelings and a goal in life? What was actually with her? Did she have a goal? What did she want? Well, a family, friends, a happy life...A life...maybe without the organization. No, she couldn't think like that. She stood up and looked out the window. The streetcar was chugging by, the last people were entering their apartments. Her cell phone began to buzz. Curious, she grabbed it and looked at the message. You're working with two other agents now. Your new home is this store. Gin had sent her the address. 

Ash rolled his eyes and put the phone away. It could only be good.