Disclaimer- I don't own Death Note
Always by Your Side
"I promised, didn't I? That I would always be by your side." She smiled softly, her delicate pink lips tilting upwards and the smooth, pale skin around her green eyes crinkling.
"Yeah, but-"
"Don't worry about it, Mel," the girl cut in, taking his hand in hers and entwining their fingers. She stared at their hands for a moment before looking back up into the blue eyes of the blond boy that was staring at her, his emotions unreadable on his blank face. "Matt's gone and you're all I've got left. If you're not going to be here, then there's no point in me being here either."
"Al..."
"It's already done, Mello. At least we know it'll be peaceful, right?"
Six years earlier...
A teen girl with hair so pale it looked almost white stared boredly out of the window of an expansive English manor. The manor served as an orphanage for children who were extremely talented and had wound up without anyone to take care of them. For her, she couldn't remember anything except the orphanage and somehow thought that it made her lucky. Unlike some of the other children who remembered their families and in turn missed them and suffered, she had only ever known the people at Wammy's House, they had taken her in when she was only two and had rescued her from a life of foster homes.
She was grateful for that too. Had she not been brought here, she would never have had the opportunity to really expand her mind nor would she have made the friends she had. Of course the list of people she considered her friends was fairly short, consisting mainly of just two boys that were the same age as she was.
Eyes narrowing in confusion, the young girl's green orbs watched a fourteen year old blond boy stalk down the sidewalk leading to the gates of the orphanage, the gates would lead him out into the world they had never really been able to experience. Noticing the dutiful way he walked and the bag that was slung over his shoulder, the girl frowned. He was too young to be leaving the home and she thought that perhaps he had lost his temper and was attempting to leave though she doubted he would make it out of the gate.
Glancing around, her eyes noticed the older man standing closer to the building, he was watching the blond go with a saddened frown, but he was doing nothing to stop him. Eyes once again moving to the blond boy, the young girl felt a sudden panic in her chest and stood abruptly from her seat. She ignored the surprised looks of her classmates and the annoyed questions from the teacher as she darted from the room and down the hall.
It was chilly outside and without a coat, goosebumps immediately formed on her exposed arms as they pumped at her sides. Her worn black tennis shoes slammed against the flagstone path and echoed through the quiet courtyard, she sped past the older man, who called her name worriedly, and towards the gates of the orphanage that had already closed behind the blond boy she had seen from the window.
"Mel!" She shouted, trying to speed up as a taxi pulled up and the blond opened the back door. "Mel!" She shouted again, but the boy ignored her and tossed his bag into the backseat of the car and began to climb in himself. "Don't you dare ignore me, Mello! Look at me, dammit!"
The boy's icy blue eyes finally looked over the car door at her, he looked angry and frustrated, but that was really nothing new for him.
"What's going on, Mello?" The girl asked, running up to the gate that had already shut and locked behind him.
"I'm leaving," he answered bluntly.
"Were you even going to say anything?" The girl asked, tears beginning to fill her green eyes. "Were you even going to say goodbye?"
"Go back inside, Al," the boy replied, lowering himself into the car.
Angrily hitting the gate with her palm, the girl shouted in frustration. "How can you leave without saying anything? We made a promise, remember, that we'd always be by each others' sides. You can't tell me you've forgotten that!"
"I never promised anything," Mello said before pulling the car door shut.
The slamming of the car door echoed loudly in her ears as she grasped onto the iron gate and watched the car drive away feeling confused, sad and angry over the departure of one of the two boys that she considered to be her best friends.
"Alison, dear," a kind voice spoke up from behind her. "It's rather cold out today, you should get back inside."
She shook her head and sniffed, holding back the tears that were threatening to fill her eyes and pour down her cheeks.
"He's not coming back, Alison, I'm sorry."
"Why?" She asked, turning around to stare up at the older man that helped to run the orphanage. "Why did he leave, Roger? He didn't even say goodbye."
"L has died, so has Watari. Both were killed by Kira while in Japan. Unfortunately, a successor was never named to replace L and Mello refused to work together with Near as I suggested. He decided instead to leave and do things in his own way. "
"L and Watari... They're... but..." Shocked by the news, the girl could only stare blankly at the older man before a shiver wracked her body and he put an arm on her shoulder to guide her back to the house.
Once back inside, Alison stared at the tile floor as she walked to her room and ignored everyone and everything else around her.
"So he really left, huh?" A light, boyish voice asked.
Booted feet fell into step beside her, but she didn't answer the question he had asked.
"You alright, Al?" The boy asked.
She didn't answer again.
"Hey," the boy put a hand on her shoulder and she blankly looked up into his eyes that were obscured beneath a pair of large orange goggles. "Are you-"
"I'm fine, Matt," she cut in, shrugging her shoulder out of his grasp and walking away without another word.
With a sigh, the goggled teen rubbed at his disheveled dark brown hair and watched Alison walk aimlessly away.
"Hey, Matt, did you get that information I asked for? The F.B.I are being all antsy and they want our files tomorrow. They want to know what we see and what we've figured out. Honestly, I think they just think we're stupid kids and are useless." A young woman walked into the living room of a nice, modern hotel suite, tossing her gray blazer onto the arm of a chair before pulling her platinum blond hair out of the bun it had been in all day. Now wavy from having been tied up all day her light locks fell a few inches past her shoulder blades, a stark contrast to her dark blue shirt.
"Just hold on a sec," a brown haired man mumbled over a cigarette while focusing on the large flat screen television that was depicting a colorful street racing scene of a video game he was really into.
Walking behind the couch he sat on, the young woman pulled the cigarette from the man's mouth and walked around to the coffee table where she extinguished it on a dirty plate with a few uneaten french fries.
"Hey!"
"I've told you before not to smoke inside, it's gross," the young woman said, plopping on to the opposite side of the couch. "You want to grab dinner or did you eat already? I was thinking we should go get Indian food."
"Sounds good, A.J.," he replied playfully, grinning as he felt her glare on him.
She whacked the man beside her upside the head and gave him a dirty look. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? The name is Alison. I can't stand that alias. Makes me sound like a guy."
"Ah, dammit, I just crashed," Matt complained, tossing the game controller he had been holding onto the table.
"Good, now you have time to at least go brush your hair before we go to dinner," Alison replied, ruffling Matt's already unruly hair and sticking her tongue out at him and jumping up from the couch before he could try to tickle her. "I'm going to change, I've been in this stupid suit way too long. Be ready to go in five, got it?" She called over her shoulder as she skipped to her private bedroom.
"Any news on the Kira case?" Alison asked, adjusting the loose, low cut black top she wore so that the pink lace camisole beneath was more noticeable and and it didn't look like she was wearing nothing beneath the shirt. A silver cross hung from her neck, resting on her chest as she propped her head up on her palm, tapping he manicured fingers against her cheek.
Matt shook his head. "Not really. Haven't heard anything in awhile."
"Oh," Alison replied, sounding rather disappointed in the answer she received as she stared into the spiced tea in front of her.
"You could always just ask if I've heard anything about Mello, that's what you really want to know every time you ask me that question, isn't it?"
Alison frowned. "I don't give a damn about Mello. I just want to know how close they are to catching the bastard that killed L and Watari."
"Right, my mistake," Matt said.
"The ass left without even saying goodbye, why the hell should I worry about him? He obviously hasn't worried about us or we would have heard something from him in the last three years."
Matt nodded, thinking it best to remain silent and let the young woman brood.
Black high heeled pumps clicked on plain mirror like white tile, the sound echoing through the quiet lobby as she neared a wall of elevators. Pushing the up button on one, Alison waited for the doors to open before stepping into the contraption and pushing the button that would take her to the ninth floor. The journey was quick and smooth and the doors slid open after a few seconds to let her out into yet another lobby. Her phone beeped and vibrated in her pocket, she pulled it out, glancing at the number only to frown when she didn't recognize it and push the ignore button.
She walked straight ahead to a dark wood enclosed desk where a sandy haired man in his early thirties sat speaking politely on the headset that was hooked over his ear. He pressed a button on the ear piece a moment after she approached.
"Good morning, Miss A.J." He greeted warmly, his dimpled cheeks brightening. "Everyone's waiting for you in the board room."
"Thank you," she smiled and walked around the desk to pull open a glass door that made a quiet clicking sound behind her as the electronic locks slid back into place.
A manila envelope in her hand, she walked dutifully past the cubicles and the glass enclosed offices until she reached a room also walled in by crystal clear glass where four stern, older men sat around a rectangular table, and stepped inside. The noise from the outside disappeared, the seals and the soundproofing on the meeting room were top of the line and not one single word regardless of how loudly it was spoken was going to escape or enter this room.
"Your files, gentleman," Alison said, tossing the manila envelope onto the top of an oak table so shiny the surface was practically glowing.
"That's it," an older man with graying hair and plain blue eyes asked, sitting back in his leather chair to stare incredulously at her.
"That's it. I don't include useless information in my reports," Alison replied with a false smile.
A man in a black suit with a white button up and a black tie, picked the envelope up from the table. He was clearly the one in charge seeing as how everyone quieted and turned their attention to him. He was tall, it was easy to tell even while he was sitting down and the stern set of his face that was beginning to show signs of age commanded that he be respected.
Opening the envelope, the man removed the contents and slowly leafed through them, his facial expression never changing.
Alison remained silent as she stood at the opposite end of the table, she adjusted the sleeve of her beige blazer and wished that she had worn a different outfit. The matching beige skirt was cute and she liked the way it flowed around her knees, but it was always cold in the meeting room here and she could feel the goosebumps starting to form on her arms and legs. She resisted the urge to shiver or show that she was uncomfortable in anyway, the four men that were in the room would notice and they would think it was because she was hiding something from them or had been unable to complete her assignment.
The door opened behind her allowing a brief cacophony of noises to enter before it slid shut and everything fell silent once again. Glancing to her side she saw that the man to have entered was younger than the rest with somewhat long, but well groomed black hair. He was dressed in a pressed gray suit with a white shirt and a boring black tie. She smiled at the man and nodded to him in greeting.
"Well, I guess the stories about you and your friend are true. You've amassed a great deal of information that we don't have and your report on the state of the bodies appears to be excellently written. Surprising for someone your age," the man at the head of the table said, setting the papers down to stare at Alison.
"How old are you anyways," the newcomer asked with a curious smile.
Alison smiled her usual mysterious smile, she was used to these sort of questions from the young man. His name was Stephen Gevanni and he was a young prodigy making his way up the ranks of the so quickly that he had taken quite a few people by surprise and ended up being both hated and respected by the men and women he had surpassed in hardly anytime at all. "That information is classified. As you're already well aware."
"Everything about you is classified," one of the other men grumbled.
"It's hard to trust the work of someone we know nothing about," another argued.
"Whether or not you trust my work is of no matter to me. Just remember gentlemen, I came here because the President of the United States requested the help from.. Well, let's just call it an agency, that I'm affiliated with. If you have any problems with my work, feel free to let him know."
"I don't think that will be-"
A sudden beep and a vibrating sound halted the older man's words as he lifted a brow that was clearly not amused as Alison pulled a top of the line phone from the inner pocket of her blazer. She frowned at the screen that was displaying a local Los Angeles number that she didn't know, the same number that had called minutes before, and hit the ignore button before putting the phone back in her pocket.
"I apologize for the interruption, please-" there was another beep and the phone vibrated again. Frowning, she pulled the phone from her pocket and looked up at the men again. This time she did recognize the number. She pushed the answer button, ignoring the looks of disapproval and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
"Your next assignment has been decided. There is a vehicle waiting outside for you," a male voice she didn't recognize told her authoritatively.
"Understood," Alison replied, hanging up the phone and looking back up at the men who were staring at her. "If you'll excuse me, I do believe that my work here is done." She inclined her head to the group of now scowling men, noticing that the only one not scowling was the younger man that had last entered the room. She gave him a barely there smile and turned to leave.
She stared at the screen of the phone, not recognizing the number it was displaying and wondering what the odds were that someone would have actually accidentally called her. It was a very slim chance that the person calling was doing so accidentally, after all, her number wasn't one that could be reached just by accident. Hesitating, she hit the ignore button once again.
"Wrong number?" the young man asked.
"Most likely," Alison replied with a slight chuckle.
"So what are you going to do now that you're done here?"
Alison shrugged. "Whatever my next job is," she answered honestly.
"Do you ever do anything other than work? Like go out to dinner?" The man asked casually.
"Sometimes," Alison replied with a nod and a half smile at the innocent flirting.
"Don't suppose you'd be up for dinner tonight, would you?"
"I'm sorry," Alison said apologetically. "I really can't."
"You can't or you won't?"
She let silence envelope them for a moment before sighing and meeting the young man's eyes. "Both. I'm sorry, you've been really nice and I love your ties, but I really shouldn't... Besides, I've already been assigned another task."
"Ok, alright. Just thought I'd try one last time before you disappeared."
"It was nice meeting you, Stephen," Alison said, sticking her hand out to shake the handsome man's.
"Nice meeting you too..." He let himself trail off while looking expectantly at Alison. No one in the building knew her real name, she always used her alias, A.J., when working cases.
She sighed, giving the young man a look that clearly said she knew what he was up to. After a moment, she shook her head and let out a breath. "Alison," she said.
"Nice to meet you, Alison. See you around."
"Maybe," she conceded with a nod as the elevator door slid open. Her phone beeped and vibrated again, this time she answered the call without really thinking out of habit. "Hello?"
"Alison?" A voice she thought sounded familiar asked.
"Yes," she replied hesitantly.
"It's Near."
".. You never call me. What's going on?"
"Have you talked to Matt recently?"
"Not yet, he was asleep when I left our hotel, are you kidding it's not even noon."
"How about Mello?"
Alison frowned. "No, I haven't talked to the bastard in almost four years, you know that. Where's this going, Near? I just finished a job and have another one to report to get to."
"I'm already aware of that, Alison. The car waiting for you outside was sent by me. It'll take you to the airport."
"What about Matt? We work always work together, I'm not leaving without him."
"You don't have a choice."
"Excuse me? What do you mean I-"
"Mello contacted him late last night, he left this morning. The hotel security cameras caught him leaving. He left you a note, the driver has it."
Her jaw clenched and her hand tightened around her phone as she walked through the lengthy lobby of the federal building. As she neared the doors she could see the black sedan with its dark tinted windows and the very official looking suited man waiting besides it. She had no doubt it was her he was waiting for. She pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up on Near, she hit the speed dial button that had Matt's number programed into it and brought the phone back to her ear as she pushed a glass door open and stepped outside. The phone line went immediately to voice mail and frustrated, Alison hung up only to have the phone vibrate, she answered it without waiting for the number to display on the screen.
"Hello?"
Silence greeted her.
Her hand clenched around the phone as she neared the waited car. "Hello?"
"Hey, Al."
Her eyes widened and she gasped, only two people had ever used that nickname for her and she knew that the voice on the other line didn't belong to Matt, she would have recognized the lazy voice. Despite not really recognizing the voice, she had a pretty good idea of who was on the phone.
"Mel?" She asked shakily, approaching the waiting car.
The suited man opened the back car door for her and waited for her to get inside, which she did without hesitation. Anger overwhelmed her as she took her seat.
"What the hell do you want? And where's Matt, I have few things to say to the jerk," Alison snapped.
"You should have answered your phone earlier and you could have said them in person. Look outside, by the alley."
Her head snapped towards the window and her eyes widened. She nearly dropped the phone when she saw Matt with his disheveled hair, green goggles and unmistakable fur lined vest standing by a familiar blond with icy blue eyes wearing leather pants and zip up leather vest.
"Stop the car," she shouted at the driver as he pulled away from the curb. When he ignored her, she tried to reach for the door handle, but the door wouldn't open. She cried out in frustration and slammed her hand against the darkly tinted window. "Dammit, Near," she shouted, knowing that it was his orders that made the driver ignore her and keep her locked inside. She brought the phone back to her ear. "So what now, Mel? You're just going to disappear again, take the only friend I have left with you? Thanks, I really appreciate being abandoned yet again."
"Who said we were abandoning you? You could have answered your phone and come with us, but it's a little late for that now..."
"What?" Alison asked confused, but the line was dead. Frustrated, she let out an angry sigh and sat back against the cool leather. "Where are you taking me?"
"To the airport," the driver replied automatically.
"Do I have a choice in the matter?"
".. No," the man replied. "I have orders to escort you to a personal jet and to make sure you get on it at all costs. Even if I have to use force."
"Of course you do," she grumbled, scrolling through her phone she redialed the number Near had called from. She spoke the second the phone was picked up. "What is the meaning of this, Near? Why am I not being given a choice?"
"You've never been given a choice before," Near pointed out blandly.
She sighed in annoyance. "It's never mattered before!"
"And it matters now? Why? Because you want to be reunited with people who walked out on you? Your skills are a valuable asset-"
"I'm an asset, yes, I know. You have plenty of people at your disposal, Near, so why me?" Alison snapped.
"Because I can trust you."
She shook her head and hung up the phone, tossing across the backseat and letting her head fall back onto the headrest. She should have expected the answer she had gotten, after all, she and Near had grown up in the same place and they both fully understood their positions. They both also understood that it was hard to trust anyone that they didn't know and that didn't and couldn't know them.
Resigning herself to the fact that she had no choice, Alison stared blankly out of the car and watched the city pass by without really seeing any of it. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Mello and Matt, two people who had meant a lot to her that were now out of her life most likely forever.
When the car reached the airport, it was allowed to drive directly to the hanger of a waiting private jet. She waited as the driver got out of the car to open her door for her and when he did, she noticed the way he was prepared to grab her if she tried to bolt.
"I'm not going anywhere, relax," she sighed, stepping out of the car and heading for the small jet.
Fourteen hours later, a rumpled, grumpy and tired Alison practically collapsed into a chair in her old home, Wammy's House. She was glaring at the white haired teenager that was hunched up on the floor of Roger's office playing with a puzzle.
"Can't this wait, Near? I'm exhausted and want something to eat, a shower and a nap," Alison told the boy grouchily.
"Next week I plan on telling the President of the United States that L is dead and that man posing as him is who I suspect to be Kira. The real Kira."
"That's lovely," Alison replied sarcastically.
"You're going to come with me. You've worked with the United States a lot more than I have, your alias is well known and they'll be more likely to-"
"Let you do whatever you want. They'll do that anyway."
"Probably true, but I'm going to put a team together and I think it would be best to have you there. You're better at dealing with people than I am."
Alison nodded in agreement. It was a fact that Near wasn't very good when it came to dealing with people.
"Besides, several of the people I have in mind to help with the case are people that you've worked with before."
This made her frown and lean forward, her brows drawn together. "You know none of the people I've worked with or for know who I am, right?"
"I'm aware of that, but you've worked with them before so they'll trust you."
"And in turn trust you because I do," Alison finished.
Near nodded.
"Alright," Alison sighed, rubbing at her forehead as she stood up. "I'm going to eat, shower and go to bed."
"Would you rather have stayed with Mello," Near asked as Alison neared the door.
Without turning around, Alison replied, "I don't know. I miss him, but at the same time I'm too stubborn to forgive him for abandoning me just because he was too stubborn to work with you."
"You were always close to Mello, wouldn't you rather work with him?"
She shook her head. "No. Mello is too headstrong and will do anything to beat you... I don't want to be a part of that."
"I see."
"Excuse me."
One week later, Alison stood beside Near as he twirled his white hair around his finger and spoke to the United States President about the Kira case and revealed his findings. She was dressed in a black pant suit with a white button up shirt with the first few buttons undone. Her pale hair was gathered into a neat ponytail and her makeup was done to make her look older than the eighteen year old she really was. She needed to be taken seriously and making herself look older usually helped with that.
Shifting her weight, she wished she had worn a different pair of heels, the pair of black ones she wore were uncomfortable and pinched her toes.
"Who exactly is this kid," the president asked her.
She blinked at him, but didn't answer. The secret service agent that had escorted them did so for her.
"You could say he's the true successor to L," the man answered.
"Right," the president replied slowly. "And you, you've worked for me before, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir," Alison nodded. "Quite often actually considering I work with the F.B.I and CIA regularly."
"Yes, I've heard about your work. You're supposed to be quite impressive."
Alison smiled. "Thank you, sir. I try my best."
"She'll be working with you then," the president asked.
"Yes. I have a list of people that I would to join the investigation team," Near stated.
"I saw that. I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you," Near replied, hopping off of the chair he had been hunched on.
Alison was busy transferring data from a secure server to the server of the headquarters of their newly founded investigation team, ignoring everything else that was going on around her as she focused on her task.
"Told you I would see you around."
She jumped and swiftly swiveled her head around to stare up into the dark brown eyes of a familiar looking handsome man in a black suit with a crisp white shirt and a boring black tie. She blinked a few times before an amused smile found it's way to her lips. "So you did," she replied. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you're here, you are supposed to be some kind of genius after all."
"That's what they keep telling me, but I still can't compare to you."
"It's good to see you again, Stephen," Alison chuckled with a nod of greeting.
"It's like it was meant to be," he replied, smiling at her.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head at his flirting. "You should probably join the others or you won't have any idea what's going on," she suggested, gesturing to a group of men and women who were gathering around Near a few yards away. As he started to make his way towards the group, Alison spoke up again. "You may work with the F.B.I, but do you really need to wear such boring ties? They do make them in colors other than black, you know? Like delightfully hideous paisleys and bright obnoxious designs. You should get some. They're awesome."
"I'll keep that in mind," Stephen chuckled.
For the next several months Alison acted as an assistant of sorts to Near. Everything seemed to be going smoothly and Near had a solid conviction about the identity of Kira, the only problem was how to prove it. They were getting ahead in their search though. The Japanese director of the police had been kidnapped and then murder only hours ago and she already had an inkling she knew who was behind the entire thing. The ordeal had also helped to narrow down the possible suspects as to who Kira was.
"We're getting a call from an unknown number. Only one person could call this phone from a number like that," an older man said, holding a cell phone up to study the screen. His name was Rester, he was one of the people assigned to help the SPK.
"Answer it," Near advised.
After several moments of listening to the conversation, Alison smirked. The move had been rash, but someone had kidnapped Light Yagami's little sister. Light Yagami was currently pretending to be L and heading up the Japanese task force that was charged with catching Kira. However, if Near's thoughts were right, which Alison knew they were, the man was also Kira. The original one and not one of the several fake Kira's that had popped up over the years during the search for the mass murderer.
When the conversation ended and the phone call was over, Alison swiveled around in her chair to look at Near who was sitting on the floor, a tower of dice in front of him while he absently twirled a piece of hair around a finger. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked, sounding almost amused.
"I believe I am. Seems he's finally made an appearance," Near answered.
"Who," Stephen asked from where he sat behind a desk littered with paperwork.
"An old friend of ours," Alison answered, turning back around in her chair so that she could begin the process of making sure that they could track the movements of Light's father who was also on the Japanese task force.
He had been told to go to board a plane and to bring a certain notebook with them. A notebook called a Death Note that had been uncovered by the real L before his death and that was believed to be the tool Kira used to kill people. Of course, this notebook had been locked away by the task force, but despite that the killings had continued making them all know that there were other murdering notebooks in the world. Notebooks they wanted to keep from falling into the wrong hands.
"What do we do," Alison asked. "You know as well as I do that Mello won't let that notebook get away. There's no way we can stop him from getting it."
"I know. We'll just have to track Yagami and help this second L for the time being."
Alison frowned, but nodded.
Alison sucked in a deep breath, her jaw falling open in horror as her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her lips. She blinked several times to clear her vision that was growing cloudy with tears and then took a deep, calming breath. The investigation room was silent, even the sound of Near stacking his dice halted as the young man absently twirled a piece of hair around his finger and glanced at the bodies that lay lifelessly on the floor.
"Alison? Alison?"
Blinking, she let her eyes focus on the black haired man in front of her. She let out a relieved sob and bit at her bottom lip.
"Are you alright," Stephen asked.
She nodded, looking down to lace her fingers with his and squeeze tightly as if trying to ensure that he was real and not just a figment of her imagination. He smiled reassuringly and squeezed back.
There was a beeping noise from her phone and she jumped, pulling the black touch screen phone from her pocket. The words 'Incoming Call' lit the screen, but no number was listed.
Alison released Stephen's hand and answered the phone. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew who would be on the other line. "Hello," she asked shakily.
There was a brief pause before a familiar voice came through the speakers.
"Hey," the voice said grimly.
"Hey?" Alison repeated bitterly, her hands shaking at her sides as tears filled her eyes. "You just murdered innocent people, Mello," she shouted. "I watched them die! Watched one have a heart attack, one shoot himself in the head and-"
"Alison," Stephen said quietly, stepping towards the distraught woman and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Calm down."
"I will not calm down!"
"I didn't murder anyone, Al," Mello spoke up. "And tell your little boyfriend he's lucky to be alive. His name almost joined the rest."
She gasped, her eyes widening. "You're a bastard, Mello. Won't kill anyone yourself, but you'll stand by and let someone else do it for you? Coward," she hissed.
Mello sighed. "I'm sorry, Al."
"That doesn't cut it, Mel, not this time.. not ever," she replied, pulling the phone away from her ear and hanging up. "I'm not feeling very well."
Stephen glanced at Near and gently began to lead Alison away from the computer.
Shaking her head, Alison let herself be led away and began to walk towards the metal door that lead into the building that was being used as a base for their group, the SPK, and their temporary home. "And you wondered why I didn't want to stay with Mello," she said as the door slid open.
Jolting when her phone rang, Alison turned her head on her pillow so she could see the phone vibrating on the desk as it rang loudly. Wiping at her eyes, reached for it and pressed the talk button without looking at the number. She figured it would be Near calling to let her know what had happened during his conversation with Mello. "Yeah?"
"Hey, Al."
Sucking a deep breath, Alison sat up and grasped tightly to her phone. "Matt?"
"Yeah. How ya doing?"
She laughed emotionally, her eyes filling with tears again. "How am I doing," she repeated incredulously. "I just watched a room full of innocent people die, Matt, how do you think I'm doing?"
"About that... I just called to make sure you were okay... Mello was worried after talking to you."
"It was nice to hear from you, Matt, but I've got to go."
"Al," Matt protested.
"Look I'm glad to hear you sounding well, but I want nothing to do with this. With you, with Mello... Just leave me alone, alright? And tell Mello to go to hell." She hung up then and dropped back against her plush pillow.
One month had passed since the deaths of the majority of the SPK members and Alison found herself in a hotel room in Los Angeles boredly listening to Near instruct her on the reason why she was there. It seemed the Japanese task force that had been assigned the task of catching Kira had arrived in Los Angeles with every intention of storming Mello's base and retrieving the notebook he had taken. Something they didn't want happening considering the fact that their own group believed that Kira was on the Japanese task force, leading it actually.
"I'll wait until they've finished the raid," Alison said. "They'll have the notebook under constant watch I'm sure, but they'll need to have it go through security and customs at the airport. I'll switch it then. I've got an airport security badge somewhere and if that doesn't work I have a Secret Service badge, an F.B.I and even a CIA badge. I'm pretty sure that this won't be a problem. Stop worrying."
"I'm not worried," Near replied blandly.
"Good. Remember that you're not the only sneaky one. I've had a lot of experience in the field and believe it or not, I'm good at what I do. I'll call you when I've got it."
"We have a slight problem," Alison said tensely into her phone when Near answered. "The base was blown apart in the raid. Soichiro Yagami was severely injured in the blast and apparently shot as were a few others. They got the notebook, but due to Yagami's current condition I'm not sure how I'm supposed to get it at the moment. I don't even know who actually has it. I expected Yagami to have it, he was the one in charge of the raid... Hold on a sec, I've got another call. It might be one of my contacts."
"Hello?" She asked, clicking to the other line.
There was silence and labored breaths on the other end of the phone. Her brows drew together and she frowned.
After a moment a voice spoke up. "I... I'm sorry, Al. For everything."
The line went dead and all Alison could do was blink and stare straight ahead while still holding the phone to her ear. When the phone began to beep loudly in her ear, she finally pulled it away and stared at it. It was still showing that Near was holding on the other line, she knew she should switch over and talk to him, but something kept her from doing it. Ending the call, she hurriedly entered the elevator, and tapped her foot impatiently against the floor as she watched the numbers tick by slowly. When she finally reached her floor, she didn't even wait for the door to ope before slipping out and walking quickly down the hall. Pulling the key card out of her pocket for the room, she opened the door and let the door click shut behind her.
Hurrying to her laptop, she turned it on and typed the number Mello had called from into a search box. A few seconds elapsed before an address popped up on the screen.
"A pay phone," she muttered absently, frowning. Biting at her lip, she looked at her phone as it began to ring. Near was calling her back, probably wondering what had happened and what her plan was to retrieve the notebook.
Closing her eyes, she made a rash decision and leaped up from the chair she had sat down in and ran out of her room.
It may have only been late morning, but the area of south Los Angeles she found herself in was an area that would have been best avoided at all times of the day. She tried to blend in, to not draw attention to herself, but in her expensive white striped black suit skirt and partially unbuttoned black silk blouse, that was easier said than done.
"What's up, honey, you lost? I'll give you directions," a man cackled beside her, he stunk of booze.
Alison ignored him and kept walking, not once even looking at him. She had less than a block left to go before she would reach the phone where Mello had called her and she was hoping that she would be able to find him or at the very least find answers that would lead her to him.
"Aw, come on, don't be like that," the man she had ignored insisted, following along beside her. "I'm only trying to help."
"I don't need your help, now get the hell way from me," Alison spat, still not looking at the man.
"What'd you say?" The man asked, his voice growing dangerous.
She tried to walk faster, tried to think of an escape that didn't end badly, but she froze when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
"She said to get the hell away from her," a voice spoke up threateningly.
"Ah, is that what it was, sorry, sorry," the man chuckled nervously, putting his hands up and backing away from her.
"What the hell were you thinking," a gruff voice asked.
Alison jolted when an arm was wrapped around her waist and her body collided with that of someone in a long sleeved, hooded black jacket. The hood was lined in fur, obscuring the face beneath it. There was the unmistakable scent of smoke and a sickening burnt smell wafting from the man who had grabbed that was just as tall as she was in her three inch heels. Bits of blond hair stuck out from beneath the hood of the jacket and Alison tried to get a closer look at the man's face just to be certain that she was right in believing that it was Mello.
"Mello," she questioned uncertainly.
"Who else," he answered harshly.
"What's going on? What-" She had stopped and shaken her old friend's arm off of her, in doing so she had gotten a good look at his face and the burnt skin on the left side. Her eyes widened and she reached forward to push his hair out of the way. "What the hell happened?"
"I blew myself up, obviously," he replied, glancing around the street suspiciously.
"Where's Matt?" Alison asked worriedly.
"He wasn't there," Mello answered, he sounded tired and she could hear the pain in his voice.
"Good," she said, relieved to hear that her friend was alright. "Where is he then?"
Mello shook his head. "I don't really know. I couldn't get him to pick up his phone."
"What's his number," Alison asked, pulling her phone from the small handbag she carried.
Mello rattled off the number and Alison noticed how he was beginning to lean on her.
"Hey there, beautiful," Matt said jovially when he picked up the phone. "Didn't think I'd be hearing from you. What's-"
"I need your help," Alison cut in beginning to pant for breath as she held Mello up as best she could. "It's Mello, he's hurt pretty bad."
"Where are you?"
Alison gave him the cross streets in rush and grimaced when Mello went completely limp. She held onto him and kept him right, sagging under his weight. "Hurry," she said before hanging up the phone and tossing it into the street where it shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces as a car ran right over it.
Looking around, Alison knew she had to get out of sight. If anyone called the police before Matt got there it would be a problem. It would also be a problem if someone tried to attack her, pulling Mello's gun from his waist, she checked the magazine and tucked it into her skirt against her back, pulling her shirt loose to hide it from view. Hefting Mello up, she dragged him into an alley and set him down to kneel in front of him.
She moved the hood of his jacket aside slightly to get a better look at the burn she had seen on his face only to see that it wasn't just his face. A small portion of the left side of his neck was also burnt, but on closer inspection she noted that the burn was more of a heat burn than a direct flame burn. Instead of singeing his skin, the heat from the blast he had been in had practically melted it.
"Jeez, Mel," she whispered, pulling his hood back over his face with a sigh.
Not wanting to sit down, she leaned into a building and watched over the street so she would see Matt coming. What she hadn't expected was for a car to come barreling down the narrow alley, startling her when it stopped with a screech a few feet away. She pulled the gun from behind her back and raised it steadily as the driver's door opened.
"Chill out, beautiful, it's just me."
"Matt," Alison sighed, shoulders slackening as she tucked the gun back into her skirt.
"Help me get him in the car," Matt asked.
"Alright."
Alison helped get their injured friend into the backseat and was about to climb into the front seat when Matt asked, "You're coming with?"
She looked up at him, surprised. Glancing into the backseat and the injured boy that had once meant so much to her, she nodded. "Yeah."
Matt nodded. "Then lets get going before company arrives."
~A/N~
This was originally going to be a one-shot, but it got too long. At least I thought so anyway.
Anywho, I had promised a Death Note one-shot some time ago after a poll and I had given myself a prompt, the first few lines actually, but never seemed to be able to write anything after that. Until now. Hopefully, this really late short story is enough to make up for the wait.
Please review!
