Not So Bad
Mello thought everything in the room was wrong.
Bright white walls?
Wrong.
The lack of desserts and computer monitors?
Wrong.
Quillish Wammy greeting him not with a warm smile, but with a sad, forlorn frown?
Wrong.
The only man he ever truly idolized lying with his eyes closed in a hospital bed rather than sitting in his preferred crouch, eyes wide and attentive?
Wrong.
"Thank you for coming, Mello."
The boy merely nodded and approached the bed, taking in his mentor's sickly pale skin and the horrific bags under his eyes; granted, he'd looked like this the last time Mello had seen him, but now it was almost a hundred times worse. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe greet his hero, but everything was suddenly dry and nothing came out. Taking notice of this, Quillish stepped past him and gently placed his hand on the shoulder of the man in the bed.
"L, you have a visitor," he whispered kindly, "Mello's here to see you."
The man's head turned a little towards the voice, his eyes opening very slowly. The sparks of genius Mello had once seen in those eyes years ago had faded to practically nothing. For the first time since he'd heard the news, the blonde boy finally began to believe that L really was dying.
But quickly (although not quickly enough, Mello thought), the young man in the bed sat up a little, now fully conscious, the intelligence in his eyes now glimmering at nearly full force, which gave his potential successor some relief.
He wasn't totally gone yet.
"Ah, Mello…Thank you for coming," L yawned, rubbing an eye with one hand and gesturing to a chair by his bedside with the other, "Please, sit."
"Thank you," Mello mumbled, grateful for something to say, and sat down.
"Sorry for dozing off on you. I didn't mean to."
Since when did the World's Greatest Detective doze off?
"N-no, it's alright. I-I just got here."
If there was one person in the world that could make Mihael Keehl stutter and stammer, it was L…Of course, the boy would rather die than admit that to anyone, even himself.
"Thank you, Watari. I'll take it from here."
"Of course, sir. Let me know if you need anything." The old man bowed and left the two alone.
"You've grown since the last time I saw you," L mused, looking Mello up and down, "I understand you recently celebrated your seventeenth birthday, yes?"
"Y-yeah, it was last Sunday."
"I'm sorry I couldn't have been there."
"It's okay, you were wor-" Mello caught himself, about to say the word 'working', but he remembered that L hadn't really been occupied with a case this time, but rather going through several last-ditch procedures, treatments, and surgeries in an attempt to lengthen what little time he had left. "It…it's okay."
"I still got you a present, though." The blonde perked up as L reached into a bedside drawer and removed a package wrapped in shiny black paper with gold ribbon. He handed him the gift with a small smile. "Happy Birthday, Mello."
"L…" Tears started to well up in his eyes, but he'd be damned if he let them show. He accepted the present with trembling hands. It felt heavy. "Y-you di-didn't ha-…" He cursed the way his voice trembled and took a few seconds before trying again. "You shouldn't have…"
"I wanted to." His face still held that sad, sad smile. "Go on, open it."
Mello obeyed, taking his time in the unwrapping. This would be the last gift he would ever receive from L; he wanted to remember every second of this for the rest of his life.
Once the wrapping paper was removed, he was left with a hefty, ornately decorated black wooden box with intricate gold patterns surrounding the golden letter 'M' carved into the center of the lid. Taped to the box was a small gold key on a thin golden chain. It took a minute for Mello to find the lock; it was very tiny, painted the exact shade of black as the rest of the box, and was located on the left side of the 'M' rather than in the center in the side beneath it, making it nearly impossible to find. When he unlocked the box, he found a small fortune's worth of chocolate inside, with brands from around the world that he'd only read and dreamed about.
"L…I…I…" He looked up at his mentor with wide eyes.
"Do you not like it?" The detective frowned and tilted his head, chewing on his thumbnail.
"Do I not…? L, I love it!" Mello threw his arms around the man in a fierce hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"You're welcome." L gently hugged him back. "I'm glad you love it."
After Mello had sampled some of the chocolate (it was by far the best he'd ever tasted), they talked for a bit about the boy's studies and how things were going for him at Wammy's House while Quillish brought them tea and hot chocolate. Mello was still the second highest-scoring student at the institute, having only been two points behind Near on their latest exams, but he still saw this as a crushing defeat.
"But I'll beat him next time! I'm sure I will!"
"Indeed," L murmured, sipping a cup of honey mixed with a little tea. "Mello, there's something I want to ask you."
"What is it?"
"Do you truly wish to be my successor? Or rather, do you really want to do what I do for a living?"
There was no hesitation in Mello's answer.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it's what you want me to be, isn't it? It's what I've been training more than half my life for."
L closed his eyes and sighed.
"Mello, I want you to be what you want to be. Now tell me, what do you want to do with your life?"
The boy gave the question some thought.
"I still want to do it. I want to be like you. I want to bring criminals to justice and protect innocent people."
"You do know I only do detective work as a hobby, not to pursue justice?"
"…Yes, I do; that's why I want to do it. I want to protect people and have criminals brought to justice, no matter what."
"So, you don't want to be exactly like me?"
Mello paused.
"When you put it that way…No, I don't."
"But you still want to be the best."
"Yes, like you."
"You want to be perfect."
"Yes."
L narrowed his eyes and set his drink aside.
"Mello, I want you to listen very carefully to what I'm about to say to you."
"A-alright."
"Are you listening?"
"Yes."
The man looked deep into his protégé's eyes.
"Being the best at what you do, being number one…being perfect…There's no such thing."
"Wha…what are you saying? Of course it exists! Just look at Near! He gets a perfect score on every exam without even trying!"
"How do you know he doesn't? Do you follow him everywhere? Do you have cameras hidden in his room?"
"Yes!" Mello clamped his mouth shut the second the word left his mouth, his face turning crimson. "I mean…I used to." He hung his head in shame. "I wanted to see if he ever really studied, so I set up a camera while he was at a doctor's appointment a few years ago."
"And…?"
"Nothing. I watched him for three months, and he never studied, not once. He just played with his toys." He roughly rubbed his eyes with his shirt-sleeve, fighting back tears, but they refused to cooperate. "I only stopped because I realized how much time I'd wasted watching him when I could have been studying, myself."
"True, you shouldn't have done that."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay, although you should be apologizing to Near, since you invaded his privacy."
Mello shuddered at the thought, but nodded.
"R-right, I will." He didn't know how much more he could take, so he decided to get it over with and cut straight to the point. "Look, why don't you just make Near your successor?! That's obviously where you're going with this anyway! He's not like me, he doesn't get emotional! He always uses his head, like it's a game or a puzzle!"
"But I don't want Near as my successor…not exactly, anyway."
The blonde froze.
"What?"
"Would you like to know my ideal scenario regarding who should be the next L after I'm gone?"
Mello grit his teeth a little, but nodded.
"I would like you and Near both to be L, together."
Silence…Then,
"You can't be serious."
"I am completely serious."
"I-it'll never work. You know I don't get along with Near. We've always competed against each other, always."
L gave another exasperated sigh.
"Why don't you like Near, Mello?"
"Because he's just so…so…"
"Near?"
"Exactly!" Mello slumped in his chair. "I don't know what I hate more, the fact that he's so unemotional all the time, like he doesn't even care, or that the few times he is, he's always wearing this smug little shit-eating grin, like he's better than everyone else!" L laughed, surprising the blonde. "What the Hell is funny about that?!"
"I apologize," the older man chuckled, "I wasn't laughing at you; I was laughing at your choice of words. It reminded me of what someone said about me during my last case. He used the phrase, 'shit-eating grin' as well."
"Your last case…You mean the Banzai Bomber?"
"That's correct. I don't think I ever told you, but that case was the first, and only, time I ever showed my face to the people working under me."
"You're kidding!"
"No," L smiled, "The Bomber was proving more difficult than I'd imagined, and I knew that my time here on Earth was dwindling rather rapidly, so I figured I had little to nothing to lose. I'd always wondered what it would be like to work with people face-to-face rather than through a computer screen, and I wanted to try it just once before I was too sick to move." He refilled his cup of tea and took a long sip. "Of course, even then this was all done with a very small group of detectives I'd personally selected for the task force, and who had all been sworn to secrecy on pain of death if they dared tell anyone about me or the case. One of the investigators I chose was the Chief of the NPA's son, a brilliant young man named Light, whom had just graduated early from To-Oh University. Although Light and I worked well together, we still had our fair share of…disagreements."
"Like what?"
"For starters, Light thought some of my methods were too extreme and violated human rights. He also said I was stubborn, unemotional, stuck-up, and had a 'shit-eating grin', among other things…" L smirked in remembrance. "Our most intense confrontation ended with a black eye on my part and a broken nose on his."
"He hit you?!"
"Oh, yes. Although I can't entirely blame him; I was intentionally provoking him, so some of the fault is my own."
"Why were you provoking him?"
"I was being a sore loser. You see, Light believed that my plan for capturing the Bomber was too risky and could easily injure or even kill civilians, so he made one of his own; to prove that we could catch him without harming innocent people…It worked flawlessly."
Mello gaped at him.
"N-no way…"
"I'm afraid so, but in the end, I'm glad he one-upped me. It's not like I wanted civiliancasualties, I just didn't want to admit that I was wrong." L turned to his successor. "Do you understand now, Mello? I'm not perfect, you're not perfect, even Near isn't perfect. You both have your individual strengths and weaknesses. That's why I'd like you to be L together. On your own, you each have incredible talent and potential; but together, you could be so much more...You could surpass me, be better than me." He gently took Mello's wrist. "Listen, there will always be someone better than you, and while I greatly admire your determination to improve yourself, you mustn't let an impossibility like perfection drag you down." His expression grew somber. "I've seen too many people go mad chasing that illusion. I'd rather you not become one of them."
Mello looked at the bony hand gripping his wrist, the pressure of L's fingertips barely present, as if he was cradling something tiny and delicate.
"What…" He was almost too scared to ask, but he did anyway. "What if I refuse? What happens then?"
"Then neither one of you will become L. You will be M and N. I will fade away with time, and you will make your mark on the world as you see fit."
"You mean if I don't work with Near, all the years I spent training, all the work I put in, all the hours I studied, will have been for fucking nothing?!"
"Please lower your voice. And no, that is not at all what I am saying. Weren't you paying attention? You already have the capabilities to succeed me, but I think you'd do better with Near."
Mello had long since yanked his hand out of L's and was currently burying his face in both of them.
"I can't believe…You can't do this!" He was starting to hyperventilate.
"Mello. Mello, stop." L pulled his hands away from his head and tilted the boy's chin up. "Mello, look at me. Look at me." The blonde reluctantly did as he was told. "Good. Now, I want you to take a deep breath; in through your nose, out through your mouth." Mello did it, holding the air in for a good five seconds before releasing it. "Again."
This went on for a minute before L deemed Mello capable of calming down on his own, which he quickly did.
"I'm sorry," Mello whimpered.
"It's alright," L soothed, "Look, Mello…I'm not forcing you to work with Near, and I never will; neither will Watari or Roger. If being L means that much to you, I'll let you have it."
"W-what?"
"I've already spoken to Near about my proposal, and he says he's more than willing to work with you, if you so desire. He said he'd like it very much. However, he also said that if you really can't stand to work with him, he will step down, leaving you as my sole successor."
"Near said that?"
L nodded.
"I'm not expecting a decision now, nor do I wish to rush you. All I ask is that you think it over."
Mello hesitated before placing his hand on his mentor's shoulder.
"Okay. I promise; I'll deeply consider my choices."
L smiled and embraced him tightly, which was reciprocated.
"Thank you, Mello. Take as much time as you need."
"I will, L. I will."
Mello was still weighing his options when L Lawliet passed away a little more than a month later.
The funeral was a simple affair.
It was a small crowd of just thirty-five people. On one side were those associated with Wammy's House, including the House's founder, Quillish Wammy, the caretaker, Roger Ruvie, the orphans currently living there, and a handful of former students come to pay their respects; the other, smaller side consisted of close allies L had made over the years, including the task force that had been working with him on his last major case. Once L's body had been laid to rest, Mello approached the group of Japanese men and women and pulled one of them aside. He and Light Yagami talked for a long time.
That night, after the guests had left and most of the children had gone to bed, Mello found Near in the corner of the common room, still wearing the set of black pajamas he'd worn for the funeral and solving a blank white puzzle.
"Good evening, Mello." The younger boy didn't have to turn around or look up to know who had approached him.
"Near," Mello greeted as politely as he could.
"Is there something you wish to discuss with me?"
Mello wanted to say that he knew damn well what he was here for, but held it back, instead answering with a simple, "Yes."
After waiting a few moments, Near finally glanced at his companion.
"And…?"
"If it's alright with you, I'd…I'd like…" The blonde suppressed his gag-reflex. "I would like to try being L with you."
"Okay." Near went back to what he was doing without another word.
It took every bit of willpower in Mello's being not to strangle him on the spot.
"But know this, Near: if I'm not satisfied with this arrangement after three months, I'm done."
"I understand." No emotion, not a hint. Mello turned to leave, and was almost out the door, when he heard Near mumble, "I look forward to working with you."
He didn't reply, brusquely heading to his bedroom, where he proceeded to punch the wall until his knuckles were bleeding.
The beginning was rough, there was no denying that. Tensions were high and Mello was determined to fight with Near about every little thing. But once everything was in order and Mello started traveling the world doing field work, things began to settle down. Thankfully, Matt had volunteered to act as a mediator between the two, so Mello wouldn't have to interact that much with Near. Sometimes he wouldn't see the other boy for weeks, maybe even a month or two, at a time; and the few times they communicated directly, it was either through a phone, computer screen, or email. The three months went by and nothing happened. Before Mello knew it, they were approaching the one-year anniversary of L's death.
Bzzzt-Bzzzt. Bzzzt-Bzzzt.
A well-manicured hand emerged from under the covers, blindly searching for the owner's phone.
Bzzzt-Bzzzt. Bzzzt-Bzz-
"Xin chào?"
"Mello, turn on the news."
The bedspread was thrown off as the young man immediately sat up and flicked on the lamp on his nightstand.
"Don't tell me Ngai made a move already! I thought they weren't carrying out the plan until Friday!"
"It's not about the Triad, Mello. Something's happened in America. I'm sending you the details right now. It's…it's really bad."
"Okay, let me find my laptop." The blonde quickly pulled his computer from his suitcase, his cellphone positioned between his shoulder and ear. "Matt, what is going—JESUS CHRIST!"
The monitor was flooded with horrific images. Men, women, children, even unborn fetuses brutally cut out of the womb, all slaughtered in systematic killings. Their bodily fluids, mainly their blood, had been used as paint to write Latin phrases praising Satan on the walls, along with depictions of the Devil torturing the victims.
"I'm sorry, man. I should've given you more warning."
"Who…" Mello growled, "Who the fuck did this?"
"Satanic cult called the Beatus Servas. Factions all across the U.S. killed ten families in one night."
"When did this happen?"
"Last night. The first family was discovered about ten hours ago, then other reports started coming in throughout the day. Listen, I've never heard of these guys. Have you?"
"No. They must be new."
"That's what I thought, but apparently there was another group called the Beatus Servas that went on a killing spree back in nineteen ninety-seven. They killed five families over five months in five different states. A majority of them were caught shortly after the fifth family in December of ninety-seven. I'd tell you more, but that's all I know."
"Are you shitting me?!" Mello roared, "How is that all you know?! Why aren't there any police records?!"
"There are police records, but for some reason the U.S. government really doesn't want to give them up, along with any press or media associated with the attacks. Anyway, Near wants you in New York a-sap."
"Is he out of his fucking mind?! I am literally days away from catching one of the biggest weapon suppliers to the mother-fucking Triad! I've been working on this plan for nearly six months now! I can't just drop everything right now!"
"He said he'd send someone to take over for you."
"No! No way! I've been busting my ass on this case way too long to let someone else take over at the end!" Mello rubbed his fingers against his temple. "Look, just give me until Saturday and I've wrapped this thing up, then I'll be on the first flight out of here."
"I'm sorry, Mel, but Near wants you in New York now."
"That prick isn't the boss of me! In case he's forgotten, this is a fucking partnership! I don't give him orders, and he doesn't give me orders!"
"Mello, listen, I think you should come." Something in his friend's tone made the blonde pause.
"Why?"
"It's Near, there's something…up with him. He hasn't been sleeping or eating much lately; Hell, he hasn't played with his toys in nearly a week."
"That is weird, but that doesn't explain why I should care."
There was a sigh from the other end of the line.
"It's starting to affect his work. He keeps making mistakes and passing out during conferences. The others and I have tried talking to him, but he won't say anything. There's a chance he might talk to you though."
Mello rubbed a hand down his face and uttered a long groan.
"Okay, fine. I'm on my way. But if this new guy fucks up my operation, I'm wringing his neck."
"Whatever, man." Matt chuckled, "There's a private jet waiting for you in Hanoi. I'll send you more details as I get them."
"Got it."
"And Mello?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. Really, thank you. I know this is hard for you."
"Appreciated."
During his flight to New York, Mello poured over everything Matt sent him. It didn't take him long to find patterns in the killings.
For starters, every family included a husband, wife, and a son ranging from ages six to ten years old with the name Nate, Nathan, or Nathanial as either a first or middle name. Second, the name 'River' was associated with the family in some way; five of the families had River as a surname, one of the fathers' first name was River, two of the mothers' first or middle name was River, and two of the sons had River as their first or middle name. But what disturbed Mello the most was the fact that all of the mothers killed had been in various stages of pregnancy, ranging from the first trimester to only a few weeks before the baby was due.
Bzzzt-Bzzzt.
"Got anything, Matt?"
"Yeah, four out of the five case files from the first spree, along with the records of all the original members of the Beatus Servas. I'm sending them now." There was a pause as Matt took a drag on his cigarette. "And get this, the ringleader, one Samuel Arthur Johnson, was executed by the state of Illinois yesterday morning."
"It's a tribute to their fallen leader…"
"It gets better. Samuel had a son, Sam Jr. He was thirteen when his dad was arrested. Smart kid, top of all his classes, was accepted into Harvard at the age of sixteen, the list goes on. But, about three years ago, he just upped and vanished. No one's been able to find him."
"Great," Mello muttered as he began skimming the new files. To his surprise, none of the victims from the previous killings had the same M.O. as the new ones. They seemed haphazard and almost sloppy in comparison. And none of the victims' names had Nate, Nathan, Nathanial, or River in them. "What about the final family? Why can't you find them?"
"For some reason the U.S. doesn't have any records of the last family, and they have no idea where they are. Some of them didn't even know there was a fifth family; they had only been told of the first four."
"Seriously?"
"Yup."
"Think this case can get any more bizarre?"
"Nope."
Mello arrived at his and Near's American headquarters about seven hours later. He was greeted by one of their agents.
"Welcome back, Mello."
"Thanks, Hal."
"Near wants to see you as soon as you're finished settling in."
"Screw that," the blonde huffed, "I'll just see him now."
"I'll let him know you're coming."
Mello made his way down the hallway toward the control room, the door opening for him as he approached and sliding shut once he was inside. Near was hunched over a desk with his back towards him.
"You wanted to see me?"
No answer.
"Near?"
Still nothing.
The blonde approached the younger boy and realized that he'd fallen asleep over a bunch of files. He nudged him a few times in an attempt to wake him, but it was no use. Near was out. With a sigh, Mello whipped out his cellphone to call Hal and have her put the twerp to bed, when he noticed certain words on the top sheet of papers Near was sleeping on; words such as 'River', 'December', 'mutilated', and 'cult'. Carefully, Mello pulled the file out from under Near's sleeping head. He internally cursed as a news-clipping slipped out and fell on the floor before he could catch it. Once he had the file, he picked it up and flipped it over, only to drop it again out of shock.
It was a grayscale photograph most likely cut from a newspaper. On it was a picture of a young boy covered in blood being loaded into an ambulance on a stretcher, a respirator attached to his face. The caption beneath it read, "Nate River, age six, being taken in for urgent medical attention shortly after the attack on his family by the group of Satanists known as the Beatus Servas, or Blessed Servants. Police were called after neighbors heard screaming from the River household. Nate's condition is currently unknown."
That face…It couldn't be…
Mello's thoughts were interrupted as Near suddenly shrieked and fell off the chair, forcing Mello to catch him.
"Shit!"
The two hit the floor with a thud, the younger thrashing in the elder's arms.
"Stop! Please, stop!"
"Near! Near, it's okay!"
The door flew open as Hal ran into the room.
"Mello, what's wrong?! What happened to Near?!"
"He's having a night terror!" Mello began rocking back and forth, trying to calm him down. "Near, wake up! You're okay! Near!"
"Let me go…" Near's cries had died down to faint whimpers. "Let me go…"
"No."
Near soon woke up with a start, looking around frantically.
"What happened? Where-?" He stopped short when he realized he was sitting in Mello's lap with his arms wrapped around him. "M-Mello?"
"You were having a nightmare."
"Oh…" He saw the files strewn across the floor and fresh tears sprang into his eyes as he remembered. In that moment, Mello saw something break inside his rival. "D-damn it…" He buried his face in Mello's shirt and began to weep. "Damn it!"
"Shhh…It's okay, Near. It's okay." Mello looked at Hal as he began rubbing soothing circles into the boy's back. "Which way to his bedroom?"
"This way." Mello picked his partner up with ease and followed her to a plain white bedroom, where he sat Near on his bed before sitting next to him. "Anything else?"
"A glass of water. And cancel any shit Near had planned for at least the next couple hours." Hal fetched the water without a word, placing it on Near's nightstand. "Thank you. You can leave us alone now."
"Very well. Call me if you need anything."
"We will."
With that, Hal left, closing the door behind her.
"Take deep breaths for me, okay Near? In through your nose, and out through your mouth." Near did as instructed. "Again, but slower this time." Near obeyed. "That's better. You're doing great."
This went on for some time; Near crying himself out and Mello comforting him, until…
"Her name was going to be Ashley."
"What?"
"My little sister…Her name was going to be Ashley Marie River."
Mello didn't say anything for a few seconds, then he gently gripped Near's chin and tilted his head up.
"Near, look at me. Look at me." Near resisted, shutting his eyes and trying to turn away.
"No…"
"Please?" It was a word Near had never heard come out of Mello's mouth, and if he had, it wouldn't have been directed towards him. Reluctantly, he decided to let Mello coax him into opening his eyes. "Near, listen to me. We are going to catch these bastards, understand?"
"Mello…"
"Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good."
For the first time in his life, Mello gave Near a genuine smile. It was kind and warm, and made Near feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. He leaned into Mello's shoulder, looking for more of that feeling.
"I'm tired, Mello…'m so…so tired."
"Then go to sleep." He felt a hand lightly ruffle his hair.
"Can't…bad dreams…scared they'll kill me like they-"
"Shh. No more of that." The arm around Near's shoulders tightened. "I'll stay with you."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
The Vietnamese & Latin phrases were taken off of Google Translate. If these translations are wrong and you know the correct ones, feel free to let me know.
Also, apologies to anyone named Samuel Arthur Johnson or Ashley Marie River. The names were chosen completely at random.
