Yo! I'm sorry for the wait, this chapter is a little longer to make up for that, there's an update posted on the tumblr blog that explains everything.
I'm projecting most likely two chapters, if not that then just one, for this story and then we're done! Linda's back! I think I've mentioned how much I love her in earlier chapters, but I'm gonna say it again; Linda is my favorite. I also subscribe to the headcanon that Gevanni is the kind of person to just have guns stashed all over his apartment, like there's two beneath the couch, one behind the cereal boxes, one under a side table, to the point that it seems comically excessive.
Anyways, I'll shut up now, so enjoy!
Near was in the middle of gluing together popsicle sticks when the doorbell rang. Gevanni's hand jumped to his hip, where his holster was, instead finding it empty as he had left it in his bedroom. He quickly left the table and pulled a gun from one of the kitchen drawers, carefully approaching the door.
It had been a quiet morning.
After Near's five day dissociation stint, and Gevanni's subsequent Halle like take over, he'd managed to pull together enough energy to join Gevanni on the balcony and people watch. Gevanni had kept a closer eye on him afterwards, made sure he ate, made sure to keep him doing something even if that something was just letting Gevanni read to him.
They were at the kitchen table, Near was building world famous structures from popsicle sticks and craft glue and it was enough to keep him focused. But when the doorbell rang, it shattered his attention. He doubted that Gevanni was on personal terms with any of his neighbors. They didn't order packages, there was no repairs that needed to happen, there was no reason for anyone to be at the door.
Gevanni cast him a look and Near shrunk back in his chair.
It was likely that there really wasn't a problem. Maybe there were girl scouts int he area, or someone was looking for a lost pet. But there was always that paranoid part of his mind, the part that developed when he really started training to become L, that whispered to him that someone knew. It said that he'd been found out, that some Kira supporter was waiting on the other side of the door. He didn't want to see anyone else die, he'd already lived through Mello's mass murder of his SPK, he didn't want to see Gevanni go as well.
"That girl," Gevanni prompted quietly, looking into the peep hole, "the one from the funeral."
"What about her?" Near asked, immediately puzzled.
"She's standing on the other side of the door."
Linda was almost one hundred per cent sure she had the right apartment, and she could hear the faintest of shuffling on the other side of the door, but it wasn't opening. Huffing, she knocked again, hearing the noise spike just the slightest bit.
At last, the door opened.
It was Gevanni, despite the fact that the name on the apartment contract didn't match up, she knew it was one of Near's people. There was a gun at his side, she tried not to stare at it as he waved her inside.
"Linda," Near's monotonous voice sounded more tired than it was when she'd last heard him. He looked worse for wear to. The bags under his eyes were like the ones Mello had during their time at Wammy's, and he practically oozed fatigue. Most likely emotional, rather than physical if she had to guess.
"You took a break," she prompted, sitting down in one of the empty chairs without another word. She could hear Gevanni's flustered protest behind her but elected to ignore it.
Near stared back at her, eyes blank. She could see the faintest of twitches in his throat, like he was swallowing; he was probably also chewing on his cheek. But he didn't respond, only took a slow stuttering breath and remained quiet.
"You gonna make me figure it out?" she asked.
Near's eyes darted over to Gevanni and Linda turned to face the man. She watched his body language. He didn't seem all that impressive, but Near didn't seem to have an issue living with the man, so they were at least somewhat comfortable around each other. Gevanni's reaction when Linda arrived showed a protective side the man had towards Near, he was concerned about his boss' well-being, and Linda believed it was more to do with the fact that Near was Near, not just that Near was the boss.
His eyes darted behind her to Near, and the boy must have nodded because Gevanni opened his mouth to speak.
"Near's fallen into a series of severe depressive episodes. He's not been able to work, or function, properly. One of my coworkers suggested the break, so Near can recuperate without added stress."
"'Without added stress,'? He looks like a god damn corpse," Linda wasn't trying particularly hard to sound angry, it just came with the territory. She was only a year or so older but she'd been the mama bird of Wammy's House. Near had been a lonely kid, which was saying something given the conditions of the other children, and Linda hadn't exactly been friends with him, but she was friendly and inclusive. Despite her raw emotions at Mello and Matt's pseudo funeral, she'd never been anything less than kind.
"He's just come out of a five day period of dissociation."
Linda felt her jaw drop but she quickly shut her mouth, teeth clicking, and she turned to glance at Near before returning her attention to Gevanni.
"I'd like to talk him, alone."
"I w-"
"Look, sir, I'm very glad that Near has someone who cares about him as a person. But, as it is, I am the only one he could possibly talk to about this. Forget taking him to a shrink, forget sitting down and holding his hand, I'm the one with the shared life experience. Have I seen the gritty shit he's been up against since he took up L's title? No, you've got me there. But I grew up with this kid, and I grew with Mello and Matt as well, so tough luck."
Linda was still sitting down, Gevanni still standing, but her presence seemed to swell, drowning out the slightest of protests Gevanni might have had.
Near watched quietly as Linda pulls a sketchbook from the pack she'd been carrying. They were set up in his room, on his bed, the door wasn't locked but shut. Gevanni had backed down when Near nodded his head, but had helped him to his room and fixed Linda with a weary glance.
He'd not paid much attention to Linda when they last met up, he was focused on other things. Her dirty blond hair seemed to have grown darker, she wore it down instead of in pigtails like she had at Wammy's. She had a nice tan, that seemed to make her hazel eyes stand out more than they had before. She was certainly taller than Near, by a significant amount; she'd lost the majority of her baby fat, and her hands had developed calluses. There were tan lines on her temples, Near guessed glasses, and the hint of a scar that showed around the hemline of her sleeve whenever she moved.
"Not Mello's pajamas, an identical set?" she asked, sifting through a pencil pouch.
"Yes," he rasped.
Linda hummed her acknowledgment, selecting a pencil and digging an eraser out as well.
"There's a girl in one of my class, she always comes to class in pajamas, I've never seen her wear a pair of jeans in the entire time she's come. They're real cute too, pink hearts on the pants, and white hearts on the shirt."
Without the popsicle sticks to anchor his attention, Near focused on the way Linda's pencil glided across the paper. Her movements were precise, but light, the marks only just visible on the paper. His eyes followed dutifully, distracting his mind from falling too deep. He could hear her, his processing was a little off, but he got the part about the pajamas.
"Her name is Jamie, she's got a real talent for landscapes. She's probably one of my best kids. Well, her and Ryan. Those two are thick as thieves. Ryan's a cutie, likes wearing sundresses paired with boots. Always smiling, Ryan is, never frowns," Linda gave a contented sigh and smudged the corner of the paper with her thumb, "They're all pretty bummed out that I'm gone for a while, but it's worth it, I knew something was up the second I saw that broadcast. You wouldn't believe how long it took to find you, damn. For the record, at their funeral, I apologize for being so cold with you. I was angry and you were a convenient outlet, but please don't think I'm angry with you."
She put down her pencil and dug through her pouch for a pen, uncapping it with her teeth. It was quiet while she worked a little further, outline whatever it was she was working on.
"So, Mr. Ready to Shoot said depressive episodes and dissociation."
Near blinked slowly and took a moment to nod. Linda's put down her pencil and set aside her sketchbook. Without warning, she took his hand, turning it palm up. The touch sparked something, a heavy weight that shot up his arm and into his chest and felt the air leave his lungs. He could feel the calluses on her fingers as she brushed them over his palm. It pulled him further from the haze and the world swam a little more into focus.
"Near, just because I was number four, that didn't mean much. I'm just smart, I'm not a detective. I can work out the small stuff, and I've got some ideas, but I'm not going to know anything if you don't tell me, okay? Don't think I expect you to know everything either, because I don't. Depression is irrational, I know that, but you've also got a very good reason to be depressed, so talk, even if that's not the first thing you want to talk about."
Near licked his lips, he felt his fingers twitch in Linda's grip, and drew in a breath.
"I got to watch cartoons," he said at last.
"Which cartoons?" Linda asked.
"Movies, they were children's movies, but they were nice."
"I'm sure they were, which was your favorite?"
"I can't remember what it was called, it was about dinosaurs."
"Okay, what else?"
"I went out, shopping," Near coughed lightly as he worked his voice, "It was interesting."
"Really? Didn't think you'd be willing to go out," Linda said, tracing the lines of Near's palms. He only shrugged.
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, Linda moved on to his other hand and Near was attempting to categorize the weight in his chest.
"I could have done something," he said at last. Linda looked up, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "L could have solved this faster than I had. If Mello had worked with me, we could have solved this, I could have protected him, and Matt."
"Near, Mello's a loose cannon, we knew that when we were growing up, he was reckless. Even if he had worked with you, he'd have probably found a reason to go out and do what he did. That's not on you, got that? And sure, L was pretty great, but he had his hands tied. I'm thinking there's something else bothering you though."
"I'm a failure," Near said simply.
Linda took both of his hands then, and he managed to look her in the eye.
"You are not a failure, Near. I can see why you might think that though. If I may; you think this depression somehow makes you lesser. You think you've ruined L's title. You think he would be disappointed in you, and that Mello would be to. I don't think you ever idolized L, but you thought him an amazing person, if for his intellect and ability, I get that, those are respectable traits. However, L was not perfect, no matter what his track record says. And Mello wouldn't be disappointed in you, if anything, I think he'd sympathize with you."
Linda's words were fuzzy, but Near understood, even if he didn't take them all to heart.
"Now, that being said, I realize that a little pep talk isn't going to help this. Depression is a god awful illness but I'm going to do whatever I can to make this easier for you. I'll be here for a week, I'm going to give you my personal number and email address, as well as my physical address. One of my friends from Wammy's is in the psychology field, I'm sure you remember her, you don't have to speak with her if you don't want to but I'll get you set up with a prescription. When I go, I want check ins every two or three days, I'll be calling Gevanni as well. Above all, I don't want you going anywhere near case files or news coverage of any sort, understand?"
Near nodded dumbly and Linda grinned.
"Right then, I'm going to talk with Mr. Ready to Shoot, you stay here."
Linda got up and left and Near rubbed at his eyes, unsure of what exactly just happened. His eyes drifted to her sketchbook and he hesitantly reached out to turn it towards him. Displayed on the page was Mello, curled up in the vague outlines of a chair with a book in his hands, and Matt, sprawled on his stomach with one of his handhelds. 'For Near' was scribbled in the top corner.
