Chapter 01: Mail Jeeves
Rebecca's P.O.V
Beyond my flickering eyelids, a set of television screens shone bright with static and muttered white noise. The light stung for a brief moment before my eyes adjusted again. Casting a shadow against the floor, was a young man bent over a hand-held game console, pressing buttons while they clicked in a systematic rhythm. Suddenly realizing my arms and legs were bound, I nervously tried to manuver my wrists free, with no result besides rubbing raw and throbbing flesh against the rope, staining in red with blood.
Seeing that the young man had his back turned towards me, I pushed a few inches away at a time towards a cracked door to my left with my the toes of my feet. One inch. Two. I tried muffling the scrapping sounds even more, my ears acting like highly sensitive sonic radar. Inch after inch I struggled to crawl to freedom until the door was within an extended arms reach.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A man's voice screamed. I felt a strong tug on the back of my shirt, causing the air to my lungs to cut off for a moment. He turned me around on my knees to face him.
He looked about twenty years old, but his eyes, partially hidden by a pair of goggles, looked glazed over and glossy due to my outburst only a short moment ago. His red hair swayed above his eyes as he moved in closer to my face. I couldnt help but feel uneasy by the intensity of the look he was giving me and considering how I was also gagged, I couldn't answer his question. I looked down at the gag and then back at him, meeting his eyes again. His look relaxed as he reached behind my head and solemnly untied the linen.
"It's okay now, you're..." He stopped abruptly when I lunged forward and headbutted him. Staggering back he rubbed the spot on his head where I had hit him and swore under his breath.
"What do you want from me?! Why am I here?!" I screamed at him, struggling to break free from my bonds. I saw him look back at me, his mouth turn into small frown and his eyes hidden and dark. He looked completely different than just a few seconds ago. He slowly walked back over to me and reached down to pick me up in his arms. Surprisingly, he held me gently even though I still struggled. He moved across the room in front of an adjecent couch with me still in his grasp and placed me on the cushions and turned me over onto my stomach. Balancing with a knee on the edge, he leaned over me and proceeded to untie the rest of my bindings.
I was utterly confused by his kindness. He was suppossed to be my appartent kidnapper but here he was treating me with so much care. He pulled away the last bit of rope and turned me back around to face him, his body hovering over mine in a way that made it impossible to move away. He looked at me in a different way once again, anger was in his eyes this time but something else was there also, something hidden. Sadness; the same sadness that started to etch itself onto his face earlier.
"Do you not remember me?" He asked quietly, placing his forehead to mine. The smell of cigarette smoke that lingered faintly on his clothing made my head hurt and yet somehow it was familiar and comforting. He pulled back and met my gaze, expecting me to answer his question. I shook my head lightly as lowered my head, tears threating to spill over.
"I see..." His eyes burned and shined in the dim light. I searched his face for a hint of what he was thinking but he refused to give me anything. He was completely closed off even if it was for those few seconds. I scanned my thoughts for anything that could help me remember who he was but to my surprise, found nothing recent. Recent as in, nothing at all. I couldnt remember anything that seemed to take place recently. I could remember bits and pieces of my childood but other than that, nothing. My shock must have appeared externally because he hid his eyes again and got up and walked back to his chair, picking up his game console again, resuming the rhythm of pips and pings.
"If you need anything, let me know. I can tell when a girl needs some time to herself."
I questioned for several moments if it would be wise to ask questions about why I couldn't remember anything; why it felt like he knew something that I didn't. Curious, about what brought me here and why.
There was a sudden whir of motors in a different part of the building. It sounded like it came from beyond one of the doors leading deeper into the building. The red head glanced up from his game and paused it. He picked up a tv remote and clicked on the security feed for different parts of the building. There was a view of a garage where a motorcycle and it's driver where entering, the door closing behind them.
"Looks like he's back. Took him long enough." He muttered under his breath, lifting up his goggles to rub his eyes and muffling a sniffle. Was he crying?
"He who?" I asked quietly, not expecting for anyone to actually answer me. I looked over to the television setup and saw that the person on camera was dressed in a leather jacket, black jeans, and boots. The figure's face was hidden by a tinted motorcycle helmet so I couldnt make out any details. The young man standing off the side turned to me and spoke.
"A friend." The figure on the screen took off his helmet and jacket and walked out of view of the camera through a door. A moment later he stepped into the room through the door that I was struggling to escape from just a few minutes ago.
"I'm back, Matt." The blonde man called out.
"Mello..." The young man who was refered to as 'Matt' strolled over to the blonde, Mello, and pulled back his fist and then struck him hard in the face. A trickle of blood flowed from the corner of Mello's mouth.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" He shouted at Matt, spitting out some blood that had collected in his mouth.
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" He picked Mello up by the collar of his jacket and dangled him above the ground. "WHATEVER THEY DID TO HER IN THERE I'M HOLDING YOU PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE!"
"I-I don't know-what you're talking about-Matt." Mello sputtered out from the air being cut from his lungs. "I told you- that-that I got her out safely."
Recoiling his legs to his torso, Mello kicked out at Matt, pushing him backwards and making him lose the grip he had on Mello's jacket collar.
"THEN WHY CAN'T SHE REMEMBER ANYTHING?!" Matt screamed out at Mello, his body ragged and tight. Mello's angry look disappated in an instant from his face, replacing it can only be seen as 'loss' and 'shock'.
"What?..." Mello's shoulders relaxed as he unclenched his hands and his gaze moved past Matt and towards me. His icy blue eyes studied me, wavering when he glanced at my wrists which were still slowly bleeding from the raw flesh. "Matt... go get the first aid will you? Her wounds are still bleeding." Matt's eyes moved from my face to my wrists then back.
"Okay."
While Matt went off to go find the medical supplies, Mello slowly made his way over to me one step at a time. The sounds of his footsteps, no matter how light, where the only sound in the room. No static from the tvs, no audible breathing, only the reverbating of his boots touching the floor.
"Rebecca... That is your name right?" He asked quietly as he sat in the middle of couch next to me. I dug into my memories and nodded my head slowly. Rebecca Sterling Marsall. At least I could remember who I am as far as my name goes.
"Yes... And your Mello right?"
"Yeah and I believe that you've already met Matt." He said, refering to the red-head hunched over the medical supplies. I nodded my head and looked back down at my wrists. The skin had been almost completely rubbed off and was slowly oozing blood from the pores of my raw flesh. If it wasn't already obvious, my wrists hurt like hell. Mello noticed my self examination of my wounds and gently reached out to grasp my right forearm and bring it closer to him. I thought it was my imagination but I thought that I could feel Mello's fingers tremble slightly as he held my arm in front of him.
"Here." Mello reached back behind him to take the first aid from Matt before Matt proceeded to head straight to his recliner, pulling down his goggles in front of his eyes and picking up his hand-held.
"Alright, this might sting a little." Mello warned as he dumped the peroxide onto my wrist. I let out a scream of pain as the cold liquid slashed over my wound. Though peroxide didn't burn like alchohol, it still hurt just as bad.
"OW! YA THINK?!" He took a hold of the gauze and quickly wrapped my wrist in multiple layers. To keep it in place he attached a metal clip on the end of the gauze and hooked it to the middle of the wrap.
"Sorry, Becca. It's almost done, just one more." Mello stated as he repeated the process on the other wrist.
"Um..." Mello stopped before he could pour the cold solution over my wound and looked up at me. "Could you not call me, Becca?"
"Oh, that's right. You don't like it when people shorten your name. My bad, I forgot."
"How can you-" I was cut off by the peroxide hitting my flesh and a crisp pool of pain resurfaced as he wrapped up my wrist, tugging on it especially hard as if he was purposely trying to make it hurt more. I winced in pain and studied Mello's face for hints of a smirk or grin. Nothing. That's right, I thought to myself, apperently I should already know these two. Of course they would at least THAT about me.
"Oh, were you about to say something?" Mello inquired, his tone flat and monotone.
"Hey, that hurt." I stated plainly.
"Sorry..." His tone was nonchalant but he kept his icy blue eyes hidden under his bangs, his grip on my hand tightening just a little. Is he okay? I thought to myself.
"It's fine." I stated.
Meanwhile, I felt Matt staring at us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he was focused on Mello for the moment and not directly on me which made my heartbeat continue at a more restful pace. However, I could see the understanding in his eyes and also a bit of hurt.
"Mello..." Matt called out, standing up and setting his game into the chair as he walked over to us. "Can I talk with you for a second?" His eyes free from any emotion under his goggles as Mello stared back.
"Sure." Mello let go of my bandaged wrist and walked with Matt out of the room. The door closed behind both of them with a loud slam and it echoed throughout the large room.
I turned my attention to the set up of televisions over by the recliner that Matt was watching earlier before Mello came in. I quickly got up and knelt in front of the security screens and scanned them for the two men. I quickly found them in a hallway somewhere but I couldnt hear anything. I looked frantically for a remote somewhere hoping that they also had wire taps throughout the place as well. Failing to find one, I felt on the television for a volume up button and saw the volume bar reach max.
"I'm sorry," Matt started. "I shouldnt had said that to you before. It's not your fault, what they did to her."
"It's cool." Mello was leaned up against the wall, his arms crossed, and his hands balled into fists.
"You're torn up about this more than I thought. At least, I didn't think that you would let yourself slip like that, when you were dressing her wounds."
"I don't know why I..." He paused, his head hung low and staring at the ground. "I got her out of that facility free from harm but then THIS happens?!" His voice raised a few octaves higher before he turned to slam a fist against the wall. His eyes remained obscured by his bangs but all the emotion he was feeling was pouring out of him all at once through his trembling shoulders and arms. "How do we know that this won't be permanate for her? Will she be able to remember-"
"Don't you say that!" Matt cut in.
"Oh, easy for you to say. You love her for God's sake! You just want to think optimistic just in cause she does recall something instead of thinking realisticly and seeing that that may not happen after all."
"My feelings for her don't affect anything." Matt clenched his fists tighter as his anger rose. Mello just stood there, retracting his fists into his pockets and stared back at Matt, an observing look in his eye.
"All that hope that you carry around, I'm surprised that you haven't suffocated from it yet." Matt relaxed at bit and a smirk found its way onto his mouth.
"Once you lose all your hope, you won't find yourself being able to go very far in life."
And with that Matt turned his back to Mello and walked away without another glance. I frantically tried to return everything to back where I found it and planted myself back on the couch where I was before Matt stepped back into the room through the door he left in. However Mello was missing.
"Where's Mello?" I asked nonchalantly. Matt shrugged his shoulders when he stopped even with the couch.
"I don't know. Check the survailence system if you wanna find him. I don't know where he is at the moment. He has some things to figure out first I think."
I sat there thinking about what Matt had just said and what him and Mello were discussing about earlier. Apparently I must have been a big part of their lives before I lost my memories. Especially Matt's. Mello had said that Matt was in love with me? No wonder he was so upset before, when he realized that I couldn't remember who he was. But what about Mello; what was he really thinking about? Just from the small amount of time I had just spend with him, I could already deduce that he wasn't the type to share his thoughts freely, that he was secretive about what he really was thinking or feeling. But then, just for a moment, Mello looked... uneasy, before hand, when he was wrapping up my wrists. It was almost like he was, in a sense, kinda vulnerable as he just sat there tending to me.
A held one of my bandaged wrists in the adjacent hand as I thought. He did a good job though. I ran my fingers over the bandages and turned my attention to the television screens. Instead of doing the smart thing and search the screens for Mello to plot exactly where I should go, I bolted for the door to the hallway and shot down the passage way in my search for the boy. Why was I so eager to find him? I can't answer that because I can't remember what he was to me before hand. However, I knew that if I didn't find him and at least talk to him, the precussions that would follow would have a devastating effect on everyone later. Again, how would I know that? Well, think of it as a woman's intuition.