Note : Things are going faster now, I hope you'll like this chapter although it's really sad and hard for the children...
On another note, I've noticed someone on FF plagiarized my fic MarshMello. Ok, I should feel flattered, but sh*t ! be creative damnit !
Reviews are still appreciated, like always !
I've really tried to space my paragraphs, but it didn't seem right, I mean, I'm really stuck with the book-like format, forgive me !! (I'm pretty sure I lose a lot of readers with this format, life is hard *lol*)


February 1st, 1996 (part 2)
Daniel Keehl heard the thud of the phone receiver his interlocutor had let fall, followed by shuffling and struggling noises. Voices raised after several minutes, that he could hear despite the noise and distance from the receiver.
"Why didn't you have an eye on him you fucking shit ?!" MacKenzie's voice yelled, "How did he do that ?!"
Another voice replied : "he probably had his junk on him, he sniffed everything before I could stop him !"
"He's dead." a third voice stated.
"Shit !" MacKenzie shouted, "You're really fucking useless ! Plan two, NOW !"
The communication cut, leaving Mr Keehl shocked. Andy Jeevas had preferred to commit suicide to protect him and the kids. He quickly got back to his senses, feeling something bad was coming. He ran upstairs while calling Marty.

"Marty, call Taka and your men, and go to the headquarters. Hurry up, MacKenzie called, he had Jeevas, but he killed himself there and Mackenzie is planning something, we need to go from here, it's not safe, I don't have guards here. (talking to the kids that just woke up) Mihael, Mail, go downstairs, hurry up. (back to Marty after a few second) I'm taking the kids to the headquarters, I'll meet you th..."
An explosion covered the last words before cutting the phone line.

Marty didn't lose a second. He grabbed his keys, and called his men and Taka on his way to his car. He drove at breakneck speed to the Keehl's house, only to find the house in flames, the two children holding to each other, crying and shaking in the garden.
"Oh my God..." he managed to whisper, horrified by the sight. He ran to check on the children then tried to get inside of the house.

Taka arrived a few seconds later. He quickly picked the kids and drove them to the headquarters.

Marty was stopped by the firemen.
"It's too dangerous, we already tried to enter, it's useless, there is no way anyone survived in this. How many people were there ?" a man asked.
"One, I guess..." Marty replied. He could feel his eyes burning, and it was not because of the heat of the fire.
"Do you know what happened ?" the fireman went on.
"Not really..." Marty felt like he would vomit. His men led him to the cars, and everyone drove to the headquarters.

On the way, Marty called the police chief, giving instructions and informations he had.
"Don't worry Marty, we'll find out what happened and I'll give you the informations first, so you do what you have to and deal with that, I won't make a move without your consent, I owe that to Keehl." Bratton replied.

Taka was sat, the kids sat on his lap. They had explained the few they had seen, when Marty carefully tried to make them talk, comforting them all the while.
They had ran downstairs and heard the explosion coming from their bedroom then seen the flames so they had ran outside of the house.
Now they were shaking even more, but they soon were overwhelmed by their emotions and the fact they'd been awoken in the middle of the night, and they dozed off, sobbing, in Taka's arms.

He slowly rocked them, his gaze questioning Marty.
"I don't know how to tell them..." the man said, in a sigh ending in a sob he couldn't retain. He sat at a desk, and buried his face in his palms. They all stayed silent for a while, until Mail woke up, obviously crying from a nightmare. Mihael woke up too. Taka hugged them, Marty rushing to them to calm them down.
"Where is dad ?" Mihael hiccuped, his teary eyes staring at Marty.
The man lowered his head, unable to utter the words that would tell the children they were orphans. Mihael and Mail looked at Taka, their wide eyes understanding the unspoken. Both children cried, shocked and desperate, until sleep gained them again in the black haired man's arms.

February 2nd, 1996
Taka had installed Mail and Mihael on a couch, in a room next to the office. They woke up around 8am, slowly realising why they were there and what had happened while they were getting dressed.

Mail began to sob. Mihael took his hand and squeezed it. The look he gave to his redheaded friend stopped the sobs. Mihael's eyes were full of pain, concern, and determination, but he didn't cry. Even Marty felt a shiver run along his spine when he saw that look.

A little earlier, Bratton had called Marty. The explosion had been caused by a very sophisticated bomb hidden in a teddybear. Immediately, Marty knew. Daniel's doubts about Mail's mother repenting, the teddybear she gave to Mail for his birthday, everything had been prepared by MacKenzie long ago, he was just waiting for the right moment. What he couldn't explain was why Linda had committed suicide after that.

MacKenzie was soliciting the cooperation of two societies for the acquirement of a plot of small businesses in the center of LA, that were installed on said plot owned by these two societies, businesses that resisted for a long time to the buy out by these two societies thanks to the Mafia. But the Mafia was about to buy one of those societies, which would ruin MacKenzie's plans, giving the Mafia 51% of the market, added to the already existing trade between the Mafia and those businesses. The president of this society wanting to deal with Mr Keehl only, everything would be reconsidered in MacKenzie's favor now.

Bratton would file the case as a domestic accident. He couldn't reveal his real investigations considering who was involved, and he knew the Mafia would deal with it by themselves. He would simply close his eyes for some hundreds franklins.

Marty needed to be quick, he would have to get his hands on MacKenzie, to get answers, to find Andy's dead body to give him a decent burial, and get rid of MacKenzie in the end, so he could maybe salvage the affair with the society they were about to buy.
But before that, he needed to get the kids away from the Mafia, somewhere safe. He didn't know about Daniel's testament but he was sure he had arranged everything in case something happened to him.

After a call to the judge, he drove there with the kids. Everything had to go fast, time was not on his side.

February 3rd, 1996
Mihael was looking by the window, his face tensed. Mail was simply looking down, playing with his goggles. He always wore them around his neck, since they were too big for him, but he never agreed to take them off, except for sleeptime.

Taka was gazing at the two children, sighing. He loved these kids, it was impossible not to. But he knew that it would be the last time he would accompany them anywhere. His face was known, and he couldn't protect them anymore, he was himself a risk for them.

The plane landed. Winchester Regional Airport.
The two kids were surprised by the cold, although Taka had made sure they put their winter coats on before exiting the plane.

"Hello, I'm Roger." an old grey haired man approached them. His face didn't show any concern, and Taka wondered if the guy liked kids. He didn't even talk to them. He took the small bag the japanese man handed him along with the children's passports, and turned around to the exit of the airport. Taka hugged them quickly, and pushed them gently in Roger's direction, whom they followed reluctantly, glancing back at Taka until he was out of sight.

Once he was sure they were gone, he headed to the airport's bathroom and burst into tears. He knew he would never see them again, and he couldn't even hope to get any news either.

Roger threw the bag on the back seat of a black Mercedes, pushed the children inside, and sat on the driver's seat. Without a word, he drove the half hour it took to the place they would now live.
Wammy's Orphanage for Gifted Children, the huge golden plaque on the front porch stated.

They were assigned a two beds room, and instructed to stay here until someone came to pick them for dinner.

"Mihael ?" Mail reached for his friend's hand as the door closed behind them.
The blond child looked at him, his cold look turning to a soft reassuring gaze as he squeezed the hand back.
"Don't worry, you have me." Mihael replied.
Mail's tears began to run on his cheeks. "That's my fault..." he started.
"No, it's not. Never ever say that again. If you think one second that I am mad at you for all this, then you're wrong. That would mean I'd regret that my father got you out of the hell you were in, and I don't regret anything. But I'll kill that MacKenzie one day, I promise. That bastard will pay for all he's done, I swear to God."
"We're not supposed to have heard Marty's conversation..." the redhead sighed.
"What does it change ? I'm glad I know the truth, so I can have my revenge one day..." Mihael clenched his fist nervously.

They unpacked the few belongings they had. Mail played the Gameboy Taka had bought him before the flight, and Mihael sat next to him, snapping pieces of the chocolate bar he had grabbed from the stash Marty had put in the bag.
A few hours later, a soft knock resounded and the door opened on a man that was older than Roger.
"Hello children, I am Quilsh Wammy, the owner of this place. I hope your room suits you, I considered that since you arrived together, you would appreciate being in the same room." he was smiling with a fatherly expression, "I have to make you a few recommendations before I lead you to the dining room. First, here, no one calls the other by his real name, so you have been assigned new identities. You are here to be trained to be detectives, and therefore this is a way to protect you."
The two children opened wide eyes at the word detective.
"Mail, now you will be called Matt. Never give your real name, no matter what happens or who asks you. Mihael, you are now Mello. Now, to the dining room."

Mail and Mihael, now Matt and Mello, followed the old man through corridors and stairs, to a huge room already filled with around forty children. The older of them was a skinny pale teenager with messy black hair, it was impossible to put a nationality on him but he obviously had some asian origins. He was crouched on a chair, and Matt and Mello couldn't help but stare at him. He lifted his gaze, made a small sign with his hand and focused back on the white haired boy beside him, a four years old child, crouched the same way on his chair. Both were engaged in a seemingly very serious talk and the albino kid didn't even look at them.
Wammy made Matt and Mello sit at a nearby table once they had their food tray. They ate in silence, alone, since no one came to them. Kids stared, whispered one to the other, glancing at them, but no one seemed to try to be friendly.
Finally the black haired teenager left, holding the white haired kid's hand, and little by little the whole dining room emptied.

The two kids got back to their room together.
"I don't like my new name." Mello growled, "and I don't like anyone here, they are not friendly."
"I like your name... and maybe it's just because they don't know us, we'll make friends someday, don't worry..." Matt replied, even if he felt the same. The children in the dining room were more than unfriendly, they were scary.
"I don't need them, I already have a friend." Mello murmured, forcing a smile on his lips.

Although they had a bed for each of them, they slept in the same bed that night.

February 4th, 1996
A knock on the door woke the two children at 9am. It was sunday so there were no classes, and Wammy had assigned a ten years old boy named Lane to show them around.
The boy quickly showed them the building, the surroundings and all they needed to know, until they were back in the orphanage's entrance. Lane led them then to the long corridor leading to the classrooms.
On the wall, just before the first room, a wooden frame encircling a glass was hung. "This is the students ranking, it's changed every monday before the first lessons." Lane explained.
"Students ranking ?" Mello asked.
"Yes, we are constantly judged here, this is only a part of it." Lane sighed.

February 5th, 1996
Matt and Mello were sat in the back of the classroom, beside each other. They were quite impressed by the other kids staring at them, when the teacher came in. All eyes looked away from them, to their relief.

The day was pretty eventless but still no one talked to them.
Once the classes were over, they headed to their room, but were stopped by a group of students. The younger was probably eight, but the older, a fat brown haired boy with a thick italian accent, seemed around twelve. They blocked the way and encircled the two.
"I'm Ike, and you'd better remember my name, because I'm the chief of this floor. If you do as I say, you won't have any problems." the boy spat, glaring at them.
Matt looked at the floor, but Mello quickly replied : "And if we don't ?", his eyes locked with Ike's.
"Then I'd have to show you how to behave here." Ike raised his fist in a threatening movement.
Mello kept his glare on Ike, his mouth shut in a hard line, and suddenly pushed Ike off the way.
"I'm not taking orders from anyone" the blond child growled. Ike replied with a punch in Mello's face, the kid falling on his butt but standing again to fight back.
"Hey, what are you doing ?" a voice raised from the end of the corridor.
"Mind your own business !" Ike screamed before realising who just spoke. "Oh... Near. We were just … errr... introducing to each other..." he mumbled.
"Don't take me for a fool Ike. L wouldn't be happy to know what you do to newcomers." the white haired kid said in a blank tone.
"Ok ok, don't tell him, we're leaving them alone..." Ike turned around and left, followed by the rest of his group.
Near left as well, not once looking at the two other children.

Matt and Mello finally reached their bedroom.
"Does it hurt ?" Matt asked to his friend, looking at his swollen eye that was slowly turning purple.
"A bit, but I'm ok." Mello said, "Don't worry, I'm fine." he smiled sheepishly. He was afraid. Not for himself, because he could fight back or at least would try, but he promised himself he would never let Matt go outside of their room alone.

February 12th, 1996
The frenzy had gained all children, like every monday morning. The rankings had been pinned behind the glass frame, and they were all taking turns to read the pages displayed on the wall.
There were four pages, corresponding to the four classes where students were assigned by level, the children that were at Wammy's for the longest time being in the highest level class.
First place : Mello. Second place : Matt.
The two kids were heading to their classroom when someone called them from behind.
The black haired teenager was approaching, hunched and slow.
"Hello, I'm L. Your new classroom is this way." he gestured to the door on the opposite side of the class they were assigned the previous week. "You did too good to stay on first level." he then walked away as slowly as he came, disappearing in Roger's office.

Matt and Mello entered the room, all eyes turning their directions. Did those kids know what politeness was ? Mello asked himself as he clenched his teeth nervously, glaring back.
The teacher assigned them two seats behind the albino kid, who was the only one that wasn't looking at them. Actually, Mello told himself, he seemed to ignore them on purpose.
The lessons were harder in this level, but the two friends didn't encounter any particular difficulty. Matt even enjoyed the computer class.
During the last lesson of the day, the teacher began to ask questions so students would practice a bit before a test the day after. Mello raised his hand, and answered one of them. For once, Near looked at him. He turned his eyes away as quickly as he had set them on Mello, realising what he did, but Mello didn't miss the nasty glow in them...