asgardeventide | [video]

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[video]

[The feed lurches disconcertingly. Sheets, ceiling, a rather plain wall, a stack of books, all follow each other in rapid and confusing succession until with an intake of breath, the flailing stops and the feed settles into a child's hand grasping the edge of that sheet; the shadow of a sitting up figure projected onto the wall beyond.]

... back here. A dream?

[Too vivid, too real for that. The shadow shifts, hand going to its head as a deep breath is taken. It's a hard transition to make, almost feeling like he's losing Tokyo and everything there all over ag--]

What the--

[The bracelet gets jolted wildly as Conan explores his hair. It gets in the way and is roughly discarded onto the bed, giving a much clearer view of a pale seven-year-old, methodically working his way through his fringe -- what's left of it. There's a patch been shaved off either temple, and something taped onto it with medical tape.]

Doesn't hurt -- a sensor? But that should mean --

[Not wasting any time, Conan slips out of the bed. He's been dressed in a man's shirt, as big on him as a hospital gown, a fact which gives him a moment's pause, but he's undeterred, rolling up the sleeves before turning to pick up his bracelet again -- and making another discovery. What he thought was a bed was a --]

Coffee table.

Looking for this?

[Conan turns to look at Sherlock, standing in the door way, smartphone in hand. Conan doesn't bother with a greeting, making his unsteady way over to snatch at the smartphone. Sherlock lets him, expression simply distant.]

Monitor higher brain functions ... ? Ha, there's an app for everything.

[Sherlock might be looking as unamused as ever, but a new face makes it's way around the door, with an expression that is clearly more welcoming.]

Conan! You're finally back with us?

John's glad. He was complaining that you were unsanitary.

[Conan's clearly not sure how to react.] Why the coffee table? Couldn't you have monitored me from my room -- o-oi-oi!

Don't get excited -- your bracelet. [Ignoring Conan's protests, Sherlock's casually taken hold of his arm and is reaching for the button that will end the feed.] You're broadcas--

[And cut.]

((ooc: Sherlock, John and Conan -- who is going to be doing most of the responses to this post! Finally back after his canon update sleep /o/ ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ EYEROLL. ]

Well... that isn't a lie. You were out for a week - no baths can do that to a person.

Sherlock insisted on taking readings on your brain functions while you were asleep, by the way.

At first John was against it. Something about it being an 'invasion of your privacy'.

[he'll just eyeroll back at you john!!!]

[Conan abandons his attempt to mentally playback anything he did since waking to analyse for anything that might reveal his identity -- he can watch the broadcast back later. He needs all his attention to decide how he feels about not bathing in a week. At least they changed his clothes but -- Conan decides he doesn't want to know which one of them was responsible for that.]

A-ah. Sorry about that, John-san ... Really a week?

Monitor -- to work out if I was dreaming or really living what I saw while I was sleeping?

[Conan's not sure how he feels about being your experiment, Holmes. Even if he is curious.]

[ shrug. ] It's fine - both of us went through the same thing. Yeah, it was a whole week.

[ and to Sherlock. ] That's because it is.

[action]

consults - 2012-04-19 22:08 (UTC) - Expand

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holmes_fanatic - 2012-04-19 22:15 (UTC) - Expand

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doctors - 2012-04-19 23:36 (UTC) - Expand

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holmes_fanatic - 2012-04-20 01:02 (UTC) - Expand

Conan!! [She looks half-frantic. His name hasn't disappeared from the list, but he hasn't been responding, and she's been losing her mind. This was one friend she couldn't lose.

Wait...]

Conan? What's going on?!

[It feels like ages since he's seen Nakama -- in his mind, it's been weeks. Conan's smiling as he responds to the video feed. He's still wearing the too-big shirt and has forgotten to remove the sensors, but he's seated at a table and there is a glass of juice in front of him, so someone is taking care of him.]

Nakama-neechan! It's okay -- I was asleep a really long time is all!

But... what's... going on? What were they doing to you?

Doing ... ?

[Conan remembers the sensors, hand going again to his forehead. He starts slowly peeling off the first one.]

These are the same they use in hospitals with trauma patients -- while I was out, Sherlock-sensei was monitoring my brain waves, to try and find out more about what actually happens when one of us sleeps like this. They didn't hurt me or anything, Nakama-neechan!