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It is a dark and stormy night. And tonight, Heiji’s dream comes true.
“So, I had a dream.”
“Hm?”
Shinichi isn’t paying him any attention. As is usual, he is a little too busy flipping through crime scene photographs to look at Heiji when he is saying something important.
“I said,” he repeats, mildly annoyed, “I had a—”
“Dream, yeah, I heard you. What about it?”
“Ain’t ya gonna ask what it was about?”
Shinichi sighs, finally glancing away from the photos and looking at him. Heiji spends far too many seconds staring at that unmarred, beautiful face to hear the next bit.
“Sure,” Shinichi says, long suffering. “What was it about?”
Heiji averts his eyes and his throat clicks when he says:
“You, covered in—”
Blood. The horrifying bloodstained dream, blood stained hands, pressing down on Shinichi’s blood stained shirt, pressing down, down, down—
“Hold on,” Heiji gasps to his best friend, his one and only rival, and the love of his life. “Just… just hold on a bit longer, okay?”
He presses down harder, trying and failing to stop the blood pouring out of Shinichi. The wound gapes open, open, open open—
—splitting his abdomen wide, wide, wide, wide—
—and over Heiji’s desperate pleas for Shinichi to stay awake, Shinichi looks up at him with a pained grimace, lips and teeth coated with—
“Blood?”
Heiji nods, mulish. “Look, I’m just saying… like, I’m concerned, yeah? You’ve just got yer body back, and ya—”
“Bit of a pattern, isn’t it?” Shinichi says, exasperated.
“Hah?”
“You, and your dreams of death.”
“Hey, you can’t pretend you don’t get into a lot of scrapes—”
“We both do,” Shinichi mutters.
“—and I was right the last time! So maybe ya can show some actual concern over—”
“Oh, don’t worry, I am concerned. Very concerned about your mental status.”
Heiji scowls. “See if I don’t tell ya, I told ya so when I’m right!”
A roll of his eyes. “Yeah, yeah—”
“—hold on, yeah?” Heiji whispers. “Yeah?”
Shinichi swallows with difficulty. “Yeah,” he breathes out.
There is a wet gurgle accompanying his words and Heiji instantly realises: Internal bleeding… this is bad.
For Shinichi, he attempts a wobbly smile. “Ya just wait,” he says, voice cracking, lips split, throat dry, each word a sandpaper scraped out of his vocal cords, “we’ll get ya to the hospital and then you’ll be fine.”
Shinichi doesn’t respond. Beneath his hands, the blood keeps pooling, and pooling, and pooling, and pooling, and pooling, and pooling, and pooling pooling pooling pooling
“You’re gonna be just fine! This will all just be a—”
“Bad dream,” Shinichi sighs, “that’s all it is.”
“I have premonitions—hey, don’t look at me like that—it is a thing, okay?” But Shinichi only looks back skeptically at Heiji, so he rolls his eyes right back at him and vows to keep a lookout for shady men with bladed weapons tonight. If he has anything to say about it, nothing—
“—will happen ta ya, alrigh’?” Heiji’s words slur, accent growing thicker as his eyes start welling up. The blood is starting to cool under Heiji’s hands.
Weakly, Shinichi rasps back an agreement: “Nothing will—”
“—happen—”
“—to me.”