No way of knowing what any man will do
An ocean of violence between me and you
-Ocean of Noise, Arcade Fire

x.

Mello licked whipped cream off the end of his coffee stirrer and scowled over the top of his Peppermint Mocha. He was sitting on a frozen metal chair outside a coffee shop, blending in with the steady stream of people on their lunch breaks. Near had been bent over a book on a park bench across the street for the last twenty five minutes. His white hair fell over the side of his face and no one passing by spared him a second look. It was unnerving all the same that he was out in the open alone like this. Someone wanted him killed. And there was no way for Mello to know that he wasn't the only person that had been hired to do it. There was no way to know that his client hadn't gotten impatient - or that they hadn't done some digging and uncovered their connection. Mello did another scan of the periphery for any signs of danger. He hadn't felt this on edge since the Kira investigation - and he had to remind himself that his gun was strapped right beneath his waistband if he needed it.

If Near suspected that he was being surveilled it's possible that he would put himself in the open like this to draw out suspects. Mello unconsciously tugged his black beanie down further over his ears. The plain black parka and sunglasses he was wearing helped him fade into the crowd better than his more flamboyant winter coats. He'd even made sure to apply concealer over the scar on his cheek - just in case he'd end up in closer contact with Near than he anticipated. There was something familiar in trying to stay one step ahead of his old rival that felt reassuring in spite of the constant sense of danger and uncertainty.

He'd spent the last couple of days trailing Near's movements. It was monotonous - watching him wake up and put on another black suit. But in all of his independence there were idiosyncrasies- like the fact that he'd never learned to drive, had his groceries delivered, and didn't socialize. It was how L had lived his life - having Watori bring him his meals, chauffeur him around, never having to deal with the inconvenience or uncertainty that came with human interaction. He remembered when he was a kid thinking that L had it made. But now, watching Near mimic the same lifestyle, it just seemed so lonely, so incomplete.

In addition to following his old rival – he'd also tapped his cellphone and other devices - listened in on every phone call, read through every email and online interaction. Normally, on cases like this he would expect to find evidence of either espionage or other illicit dealings. He'd even looked into the possibility that Near may be investigating a case that the government wouldn't want him to uncover. But no matter how far he reached or how closely he looked at everything Near had been working on - there was no indication, no clue, no possible reason that Mello could see why anyone would want him dead.

Near's days were spent solving puzzle after puzzle put before him by the CIA or the NSA – or whoever needed him most. It was obvious to Mello that Near had become nothing more than a tool brought in to examine and solve what countless others could not. He spent tireless hours hunched over a computer dissecting information, his time only interrupted by meetings with members of government agencies, and occasional moments like now where he'd read alone. His colleagues called him "N" – not Near – and certainly not Nate. He'd been boiled down to a simple purpose. Dehumanized to the point that Mello would bet if they could replace him with a computer program, he'd be out on the street. He took another sip of his drink, Near's penchant for insomnia had left him completely reliant on caffeine and in order to put things in motion for tonight, he was going to need all the help he could get.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number for his client, not surprised when they answered after the second ring.

"Things are prepared," Mello said in the same measured tone he always used with clients. "I'm going to move forward tonight. But I have a small favor to ask."

"Go on," his client responded. The fact that he wanted to know as few details as possible about this told Mello that he was someone close to Near, a colleague - someone he interacted with day to day. Someone that could potentially be questioned in the event of his death. He just needed to prove it.

"Arrange to have 10mg of diazepam dissolved into his drink during his 6:00 meeting tonight," Mello said, letting the information sink in before continuing. "Be sure drinks are served a half hour before the end of the meeting."

There was a pause as his client seemed to be thinking through the logistics. "Understood," he said finally.

Mello shut his phone and sighed. Making that request served two purposes; first and most obvious, it would make it easier for him to overtake Near. And secondly, it proved to him that whoever wanted Near dead was someone working in the government alongside him - someone close enough to him to sprinkle crushed pills into his drink with only hours notice.

The knowledge made it harder for Mello to sit idly by, watching and waiting - even though there were only a few hours between now and when he'd enact his plan. But anything could happen during that time. Near had just closed his book and was getting ready to head back to the office. Would he pass by the person that Mello had just gotten off the phone with in a hallway? The thought instilled the urge to catch up with the younger man and tell him all that he knew. He could show him call transcripts - the wire of money that had already arrived in his bank account - he could try and convince him to leave now and never look back. If he thought that had any chance of working, he already would have done it. But he knew Near so be knew better.

The sun was coming up on Wammy's House as Mello finished stuffing his belongings into a backpack. Just hours ago Roger had told him that L was dead. Mello's head hadn't entirely caught up to the pain and anger in his heart, the overwhelming feeling that it wasn't fair – that the universe had laid down its misguided judgement against L, against all of them. Matt was leaning against the door of their dorm - his arms hadn't come uncrossed since Mello had explained what he was doing, where he was going.

"This can't just be about Near," the redhead said as he watched Mello fumble with the zipper of his coat.

Mello scoffed - of course it was about Near. Everything came down to Near - but he couldn't admit that to Matt - he wouldn't understand. And even if he could, he wouldn't want him to.

"Why should I stay? So I can work with the police? Yeah, that worked out great for L."

"You could at least coordinate with the kid before you go," Matt said as he placed a cigarette between his lips. "Make a plan."

"You should know me better than that." Mello glanced up at his friend. Matt sighed and looked at the drawers Mello had just emptied into his duffle bag. "Look," Mello tried again, wanting to alleviate his friend's reservations. "L was always two steps ahead of everyone, right? So maybe he knew this is what I'd do - maybe that's exactly what he wanted."

Just saying it made Mello feel better. He was acting out L's final plan - not abandoning it.

"I know you don't actually believe that," Matt mumbled before blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke over his shoulder. Mello didn't respond. He just flipped through a couple school notebooks on his desk before deciding that he wouldn't need them where he was going. When he turned back to the door, Matt shot him a heavy look.

"I'll be back for you," Mello said, thinking about how much Matt had become like a brother to him. "I promise."

"You know I'll be there for you," Matt said, pulling Mello into a half-hug. "Whatever you need."

He gave Matt one final nod before closing the door to their dorm.

The truth was he didn't need this school anymore. The way he saw things - it'd only been holding him back. Grades, class participation, homework...their connection to real life, to real detective work was paper thin. There was something freeing about walking away. Every empty classroom he passed became a weight off his shoulders.

"So you're really leaving," a voice called out to him. Mello paused and looked behind him down the deserted hallway before realizing that the voice had come from an empty classroom.

A shadowy figure was sitting alone in the dark, but the voice was unmistakable. Mello flicked the lights on - causing Near to squint and draw a hand over his eyes. It'd been two weeks since the incident at the lake and they hadn't spoken since. It's not that Mello hadn't wanted to. It's just that, for Mello, things were different now, feelings were different – and words were harder.

"What are you doing?" Mello said, sitting his bag on the desk closest to the door.

"Thinking," Near replied. A small book was on the desk he was sitting at and Mello immediately recognized it. It was the collection of Sherlock Holmes stories that L had given Near for his thirteenth birthday. He only knew that because L had insisted that Mello come celebrate with them that day. He could still see the knowing look in L's eyes as he'd handed him a slice of chocolate cake.

Mello took a step closer, barely missing the half empty wine bottle next to Near's foot. It's not like it was uncommon for students to sneak alcohol into their dorms - he and Matt had their fair share of parties. But there was something that felt strange and wrong when he imagined Near drinking alone.

"Could it be - Wammy's golden boy is drunk?" Mello said, trying not to let any concern bleed into his tone. Near was wearing the same clothes he'd had on earlier that day in Roger's office, only now they looked somehow more crumpled.

A strange smile crept over Near's lips like he was just realizing where the warm buzzing feeling in his head was coming from. "I suppose I am."

Mello picked up the bottle and took a swig. The bitter taste of Merlot filled his mouth. "You picked a strange night for it."

He set the bottle on Near's desk. The younger boy stared at it, his dark eyes fixing on the French writing on the label. "Is it?"

Near took another sip and passed it back to Mello. "Some of the students wanted to congratulate me for being L's successor. I got this and a card, but I have found this the more useful of the two."

It didn't surprise Mello. Everyone in this school only thought of getting ahead - if Near was going to be the next L, the other students were no doubt vying to get in his good graces. It could mean an easy in for a job in a couple years. It didn't matter that less than twenty-four hours ago those same students barely acknowledged Near's existence. But he was sure that he didn't need to point that out.

"They're all vapid fools." Mello mumbled.

"I'm feeling much better actually," Near said, laying his head against the book on the desk and turning his face towards the rising sun outside the window. "All of this feels better than before."

Mello leaned against the blackboard, watching the sun rise through the smudged classroom window. He wished he could tell Near that the feeling would last. But no matter what he said, they were both watching the sun rise on the first of the rest of their days without L.

"Do you think that we'll die Mello?" Near turned his head, so he was looking up at the older boy.

There was something in his eyes that was impossible to pin down - an elusiveness that someone else might explain as genius - but Mello knew better.

"I don't plan on it." He ran his finger through the tray of eraser dust. "Then again, I'm not going to paint a target on myself like L did."

They both knew that Near would be assigned to a police task force like L had been. Maybe he wasn't just drinking to numb the pain of L's death - maybe he was drinking because he knew his own was inevitable. Because tonight was the last night he could let his guard down. Something about all of it left Mello with a sick feeling in his stomach.

"You could come with me," Mello said - his voice slightly too loud. He was suddenly aware of the sound of his own heartbeat. He surprised himself with the offer. But now that he said it, he knew that he meant it.

Near sat up, pushing his hair out of his eyes with a swipe of his hand. He glanced at the bag by the door with an unreadable expression. Suddenly Mello felt like the room was closing in on him - the smell of pencil shavings and red wine, the humidity of the morning dew, the book Near leaned against, like a tombstone, like a shoulder, like a goddamn ghost. The air in the room felt heavy enough to pin him to the ground and he had to force himself to take a breath.

"It's not…it's not what L would want. I can't just leave," Near said before looking back at the embossed gold letters on the book jacket with a sort of resignation.

"I plan on solving the case," Mello said angrily, because it almost sounded like Near was suggesting he was just running away. "But I'll do it on my terms."

"But you won't." Near tipped the bottle back against his lips. He made a face as he swallowed, before looking back at Mello. "If it can be solved, I'll be the one to bring Kira to justice. And if not, we'll both die." It didn't sound like a challenge or a dig - just a grave inevitability.

"You're wrong." Mello said, feeling a familiar surge of anger at the younger boy. Near shot him a half-smile and turned back to the golden light pushing through the classroom window.

Mello walked towards his bag. There was nothing left to say, only a hundred things to do to prove Near wrong. But when he paused in the doorway and looked back, Near was sliding his thumb down the spine of the book, buried by his fate and beyond caring what Mello said or did or didn't do.

Mello was behind the driver's seat of the Mercedes that had been sent to chauffeur Near home from his meeting. It'd be relatively easy to manipulate the car rental system and assign his alias as the driver. He glanced in the mirror on the visor - his blonde hair was pressed under a short brown wig - and a chauffeur's cap was pulled over that. Between the navy uniform, aviator sunglasses, and makeup covering his scar, he was certain that Near wouldn't give him a second look, in fact he was counting on it.

Near's meeting was located in an ideal location - an office building outside of DC surrounded by highways and other long stretches of road. The only hitch in Mello's plan at this point was the quickly accumulating snow building up on the road. He glanced at the neon numbers of the clock under the radio. They were five minutes behind schedule. But when he looked back up Near was exiting the double-doors of the building.

Mello took a breath - wishing he didn't feel a sudden swell of unexpected anxiety as Near headed straight for the black town car. But right now he couldn't focus on his racing heartbeat or the sweat worming its way down his temple from beneath the wig. It was better to focus on Near's sluggish movements as he opened the car door and the slurred way he mumbled his address before leaning back against the seat.

Mello wanted to wind down the windows to combat the sudden closed-in feeling of the car - the heat on his neck from Near's possible gaze. He took a silent breath. He just had to break free of traffic and get to the isolated back road like he had planned without rousing suspicion. The snow was coming down harder now - flying at the windshield faster than the wipers were able to clear it away. Mello had to pull his sunglasses off to focus as the storm clouds had prematurely darkened the sky. But it didn't matter now, Near's eyes were sliding shut as Mello took the exit off the highway and onto the stretch of back roads.

The plan was simple. First he'd drive them to the Mustang that he'd stashed earlier that day alongside the road and transfer Near into it. Then he'd activate the bomb he'd already placed in the trunk of the car they were in now. It was an easy and effective way to fake Near's death. Mello spotted the black Mustang and pulled the car over to the side of the road behind it. It was a desolate stretch of road rarely used. And tonight it seemed that most motorists were avoiding it completely due to the snow. He turned off the engine and glanced around to make sure they hadn't been followed. But to their left was the empty road - covered in a slick layer of white snow and to their right, grass and a grove of trees. It felt like no one was around for miles.

"Why are we stopping?" Near asked slowly, blinking and trying to prop himself up.

In one quick motion, Mello reached for his gun and pointed it squarely at Near's forehead. "Put your cellphone and your wallet on the seat next to you!"

Near sat up straight now and sucked in a breath. His pupils were huge from the influence of the drug - black pushing gray to the edges. "Okay…okay," he said calmly, fumbling in his coat pocket while glancing to Mello's face, lingering too long on his eyes.

"Do it!" Mello yelled again, drawing Near's attention back to the gun. He slowly placed both items on the seat next to him like he'd been told.

"Whoever is paying you - I can give you more" Near said before taking a deep breath and shaking his head like he was trying to keep the fog at bay.

"Lie down on the seat - face first with your hands behind your back," Mello yelled before jumping out of the car and throwing open the back door. But Near hadn't listened, and instead struggled to rush past him as he opened the door. But the drug had set in, and he fell onto his hands and knees in the snow covered ground at Mello's feet.

"What…" Near said to himself like he couldn't understand why his body wasn't cooperating. Mello grabbed him beneath his arms and pulled him up, easily cuffing his hands behind his back in one fluid motion.

"Let's go," Mello said, one arm hooked under Near's and the other wrapped around his waist as he half-carried him towards the Mustang. Near was watching their feet move together in the snow, glancing from the gun in Mello's waistband to the car they were heading towards with a detached expression. Like this was happening to someone else - someone in a movie - someone he didn't have to worry about.

After Mello had lowered him into the passenger seat a soft groan escaped Near's lips. He tilted forward against the cool vinyl surface of the dashboard. Mello placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him back against the seat before pulling the seatbelt across him. He then tugged off a glove and moved the collar of Near's coat aside. He pressed two fingers against his neck - checking his pulse to ensure that he hadn't been given more of the drug than he'd instructed. The younger man clumsily tried to move his hands to fight off Mello's touch, like he'd forgotten that they were cuffed, as Mello silently counted his heartbeats while staring down at his watch. When he was sure that Near was experiencing the typical effects of the dosage, he shut the door and locked the car before sprinting back to the Mercedes.

He had to keep moving. If he was being watched - it would be a matter of time before he was closed in on. The bomb he'd placed in the trunk of the Mercedes just needed to be activated. He opened the trunk and entered the necessary codes. Once the countdown began he double-checked that Near's ID and cellphone were both still inside the car. The cellphone would be tracked to this location in no time - making it all the more critical to leave. If pieces of his wallet were able to be recovered in the wreckage - that'd be an added bonus.

He stood in the snow - looking from the silent road to the snowcapped trees for any final sign of being watched. Once he was satisfied that they wouldn't be followed he ran back to the Mustang. Near's head was hanging over the seatbelt, the snow that had gathered in his hair on the walk to the car was now dripping onto his pants. It was strange to see the younger man in a wardrobe so different from the monotone whites he wore in his youth. And now that Mello was close he could see the way that the black suit and coat made his pale skin and red lips all the more pronounced.

Mello glanced down at his watch - they had exactly sixty seconds to put as much distance between them and the explosion as possible. He pressed the pedal to the floor and the rev of the engine caused Near to pick his head up. The explosion thundered through the dark and Mello could see the orange flames illuminating the snow through the rearview mirror. Near had twisted in his seat, staring at the fire like he couldn't grasp what was happening.

"Just close your eyes - it's okay," Mello said, his eyes not leaving the road. He had to focus on putting as much distance between them and the wreckage as soon as possible. "You'll be safe. I promise."

Something about the lull of the car ride and Mello's words finally sent Near into unconsciousness. Mello planned to drive through the night - until they reached the safe house. He reached for the half-eaten packet of M&M's in his pocket, listening to the steady rhythm of the windshield wipers as they made their way through the snowstorm. The fact that he hadn't gotten a call on his cellphone was a good sign that he'd gotten away with it - at least for now. But he wasn't going to let down his guard. Every new set of headlights was a potential threat. He had his gun in his pocket and was fully prepared to take down anyone who stood in his way.

On the seat next to him Near shifted in his sleep, causing the handcuffs to clink together. "It's okay, you're safe." Mello repeated softly without thinking. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt for causing the terror that had filled Near's eyes when he'd drawn his gun. He wished it hadn't come to that - that Near had blacked out sooner.

"Mello?" Near mumbled - the word was thick with sleep. Mello glanced down - but Near's eyes were still shut, his head was hanging forward against the strain of the seat belt. Mello reached a hand out unconsciously - wanting to comfort him - but realized what he was doing and his hand froze in the space between them. He placed it back on the steering wheel before reaching for a handful of candy. He shoved the chocolate pieces between his lips trying to think of anything but the pain in his chest, the quiet ache that he hadn't acknowledged in years.

As he accelerated through the long stretches of roads he couldn't help but wonder how Near would react when he realized Mello was still alive. When he realized what he'd done. Not that it mattered - he wasn't doing this because he thought it'd change anything between them. Nothing ever would.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm so excited for this chapter and especially for what is still to come! If you're enjoying this story, please leave a review and share your thoughts.