This fic is dedicated to the dear Tierfal, for her love of Nia.
The limousine pulled up alongside the cemetery gates and parked at the curb.
"We've arrived," announced the driver, a brunette in his thirties.
A tall, fair woman stepped out to open the door from the other side. What emerged was a young man, although he looked like a sickly young boy from pale white hair and the too-big pajamas he wore.
"Thank you, Gevanni, Linder." he said t his companions in a small thin voice that nevertheless carried years of authority behind it.
"Do you need us to accompany you, Near?" Gevanni asked.
"No thank you. I'd prefer to do this myself, if you don't mind."
"Of course," The man nodded. "We'll wait here until you've finished."
"Thank you. I won't be long."
He hobbled awkwardly through the trees towards the lone patch of earth with nothing but a simple stone cross marking it. When he finally made it, he sat down, struggling to catch his breath. Being anemic and having weak blood, Near got tired easily, and as a result didn't walk, or even move often, if he could avoid it.
He used his hands to scooch himself closer, coming to the edge of the granite slab.
For a while he sat there awkwardly, staring at the patch of earth, not saying anything as he fingered a strand of his hair. What was he doing here? He couldn't remember.
"Hello, L," He finally spoke. Why was he doing this? He didn't believe in an afterlife, communicating with the departed. How could L hear him? He couldn't. He was dead. A corpse. Most likely decomposed by now…
He shook his head slightly, in an attempt to clear his mind. "It's me. Nate Rivers. Nate. Near. I was at Whammy's." He forced the words out. He was doing this because it was respectful, homage to his mentor. L deserved it.
L wouldn't know. Respect for the dead that mourners showed was purely out of their own selfishness, because it eased their grief some. The dead didn't need anything from the living, sentiment or otherwise. They were dead.
He spoke again. "Kira is dead. I saw him die myself."
He paused for a moment. "Mello's dead, too. And Matt."
Why had he said that?
"I never hated him, you know," He added. "Mello, I mean. The way he hated me. I honestly wouldn't have minded working alongside him. But he left…" Near hesitated. "I had always admired him, truthfully. I was jealous of him, in a way. He didn't need to depend on people, the way I did… He was strong. Self-reliant. He could walk by himself, for God's sake!" Near's voice rose an octave involuntarily. "I miss him."
He was quiet for a few moments. "I was only able to solve this case because I had Mello's help. What will I do now that he's gone?" His vision began to distort. "How do you know that I'll be able to solve all those other cases by myself? How do you expect me to carry that sort of burden?" He brought his head to his knees miserably. He began to cry softly.
"I'm not like you," he sobbed. "I never even knew you."
Near practically never cried. Through the entire time during the case, he had never shed a tear. Not when L died, not when the SPK agents were murdered, not when the constant threat of being violently killed hung about him constantly. Oh sure, he had been afraid, but he hadn't acknowledged it. Emotions were distractions, after all. Only now, with everything finished, did he let all that was inside him spill out.
After a few minutes, Near wiped his eyes and looked up. "I guess I just wanted to say that your work is finished, and-thank you. For everything." He reached into his pocket and, pulling out a small game dice, placed it on the gravestone.
Near awkwardly limped towards the limo where Linder was waiting.
"Hello, Near," She greeted him. "Did everything go all right?"
"Yes, thank you." He suddenly bent down, wincing in pain from having to walk the distance.
"Are you all right?" asked Linder, concerned. "Do you need help?"
"No thank you," Near stopped her, slowly pushing himself back up and walking toward the open car door on his own. "I'm all right."
They both got into the vehicle, and drove off into the distance.