Hey guys.
I don't even want to know how long it's been. BUT I know I owe you an apology.
So...Sorry D:
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters, minus Jet.
Enjoy!
These were her last minutes in this godforsaken sofa, and this knowledge made her jumpy. She wished she could get up and pace through the thick air, but the excitement of seeing the outside world for the first time in what felt like years changed nothing about her immobile state. Her legs itched to move, but the pain held her down even more effectively than leather binds. She was finally noticing everything about this room, rather than just staring at the wall. She could smell the stagnant scent of decay with an undertone of smoke, feel the stuffy air crawling over her dirty sweating skin. She could even see the dirt creeping in like snakes and thieves, slipping closer to her every time she blinked or looked away. It made her shiver.
Of course, her only escape now would be to relive that night that had altered her life for ever. She could still feel those beatings; feel the searing pain as she yanked at her binds. The ache of newly broken bones was fresher than it had felt even on the day, intensified by her memory, and the blood trickling down her face like scarlet tears were scalding hot, leaving trails of burning skin behind, inflamed and peeling. Those burns weren't imaginary, they just weren't physical. Those were the trauma. Then she could hear the ringing noise of bodies slamming down onto the ground, and there was Mello. Mello, the same man who had recently 'abandoned' her. Somehow that just didn't feel right to think. Then there was the limping, the awkward stumbles, the light of the alleys only just touching her eyes before the chaos wrecked her mind. The bullet was re-piercing her arm, and the smell of dirtied tarmac flowing up her nostrils was larger than life.
Those were memories she would rather forget.
'How do you know to trust these people?' Her mind asked in its haunting tones. It didn't want her to trust herself; it didn't want her to survive. 'You've never met them. They know the closest thing to your name, they know where you are. They could plan to do anything, they could be anyone. Why, are you so naïve that you never thought they might not be who they said?'
If she could have, she would have vigorously shaken her head. Seeing as she couldn't, she settled for a rough half-jerk of her stiff neck, eyes wide as she battled away the new fears. She just hoped the SPK were here soon, because her refreshed senses were playing with her mind. She needed nothing more than medical care and some good food and drink to set her mind at ease. Her eyes were dull with suppressed fear and the shaven-head girl held back fierce thrashing, the pressure building up in her very veins. Since when did fear and concern affect her so much? She had gotten along fine without any help until now and now that she did have help, she was terrified and complaining? It made no sense. She just had to learn how to associate and work with others. Maybe then she could make some personal progress, seeing as her luck had been severely lacking over the past months.
But who was she to whine? She had escaped the police and found refuge, made two 'friends' who had proven to be just slightly unreliable and disgustingly smelly within their own home. Whether they were stinking up the house or not though, they had provided her food out of the little they had and even clothed her. That was much more than she could ever hope to return. The one mission they had ever had for her had went wrong because she reacted to one man's wishes the wrong way, yet they had still kept her here, and tried to keep her alive. Well, sort of. Their attempts had seemed half hearted, but…
She could feel and smell the door being thrown open before she heard it rebounding on the cracked plaster walls or look to the window reflection and see it. The scent of ice cold boozy air filled her mind and it had the effect of bleach. Every trouble in her mind seemed to be blown back out of her as she exhaled and relief flooded her, taking over her system. The smell of alcohol was welcome, as compared to decay it was like smelling rich vanilla and chocolate. The cool of the wind was perfect on her rough skin. Never had she been as grateful for something as simple as this.
And then she saw the men entering, and from what she could decipher in the unfocused reflection, they were big. She slid back and watched the reflection cautiously, looking for a sign of what they would do next. One man retched at the smell and took a step back, but at a sharp kick from one of his colleagues he grumbled and disappeared from sight, shortly followed by his taller teammate. She heard soft mutterings, and one called out "We need a body bag in here!" Freezing, she shot up to her feet as if it was nothing, but as she took her first shaky step, she yelped and collapsed in a heap on the floor, landing hard. Every part of her body protested as she tried to move again, but the sudden news that there was a dead body in this tiny house was enough to power her on. She hoisted herself up to her knees, and crawled through the kitchen slowly and quietly, hiding behind the fridge as a medical team ran in through the garage door.
Biting back her small whines of pain, she used the fridge door handle to pull herself to her feet and managed to stumble the few painful feet to the door, gripping the door frame like a life line, panting. She watched as a pale, swollen body was loaded into a body bag, his auburn hair falling out with each movement of his body. Choking back her surprise, she began to enter the room before being grabbed by the arms from behind.
"We have an intruder!" A blundering man told the others, and a small albino boy stood from the group. "N-near, what are you doing here? You're meant to stay in base at all times, it's not safe!" The pale boy appraised the man and the girl he held in a rough manner, seeming to calculate something.
"I wanted to greet this girl in person, and evaluate the damage." He spoke in monotone, and Jet couldn't help but blink. Was this nothing new to him, then? She wanted to ask, but didn't want to seem obnoxious and rude. "Now if you will please escort to the mini-van, please."
Just like that, all the uncertainty of the situation vanished and everyone, after catching a glimpse of the walking wreck that they had stumbled upon, returned to their respective jobs as she was picked up none to gently and carried out to the mini-van. She supposed asking this man who seemed to have no other job but sit in the van about the situation she had found herself in.
"Who's the pale boy?" She asked, not one for skirting around the topic she aimed for. The man turned to look at her, face unreadable.
"He is Near, current leader of the SPK. He came from Wammy house, a school for gifted children. He was the next in line to be L, and now, as his successor, has to bear the weight of saving the world from the greatest criminals around, such as Kira." His voice was flat, and the dazed, bruised girl ran over the information a couple times before storing it away. It didn't look like this man liked Near.
Gazing out the window, taking in the view, and although it was only the backdrop of a grubby street with grey houses and broken windows, it was like seeing the world for the first time. She soaked it up, trying to note every single thing about this crumbling district. Even the grime on the kerb was something not to be taken for granted- she had no idea how often she would be outside. It was ten minutes or so later than the team came back out with only a small bundle of things that might be of any value to their 'guest'. As they poured out with different items of importance, the meek looking teen watched as the body was brought out in it's black bag, pieces of evidence in small clear plastic bags which had been labelled with white tags. As they loaded themselves and their findings into the van, Jet watched out for the pale albino boy, and was not disappointed.
The small figure stepped up into the back of the van, and she watched him curiously. He dressed in white pyjamas, his curly white hair in disarray, his eyes haunting and a misty grey colour, his skin as pale as ice. He was intriguing to say the least, but she wasn't sure how many chances she would have to talk to him. So it pleased her when he sat down beside her on the leather seats. Somehow this low priced mini van didn't seem like the right place for him to be, he looked out of place. She turned to face him, uncaring of whether he caught her staring or not. He made to face her, in turn, and watched her inquisitively.
"I am Near" He said bluntly, waiting to hear if she knew of him. She nodded, a vague look on her face.
"He said" She replied shortly, gesturing to the driver who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, impatient to drive back to the base, wherever that was.
"Who are you?"
"You know who I am."
"I know very little. I know your name, which is obviously not accurate, I know that you are an orphan, I know that you were recently on the news and were very nearly a victim of Kira." Jet imagined that if Near allowed himself to talk in a normal voice, he would have spat the name 'Kira' out like venom. " I know that you were somehow in acquaintance with Matt and Mello and lastly, I know that you are trying to heal multiple wounds and broken bones without much food, water, sleep and medical care."
"That's about as much as I know about myself." She told him truthfully. He frowned at her before lapsing into silence, and taking this as permission to look away, she looked out the window and watched the world pass by in a blurring picture. She wished she could ask the driver to go slow so she could appreciate it all, but held her tongue.
The blurring colours were just like that of dreams, and dreams are where she is safe. In the back of her mind, she heard the driver call back to Near to find out their destination.
"We're not going to the base. We can't have her there. We're taking her to a house far from other civilisation. Take the next left and follow the road for the next 6 miles."
Knowing they were already on the outskirts of this small network of alleys and narrow roads, Jet came to the conclusion that they would hit empty land soon. She couldn't help but frown to her reflection.
'Why are they taking me so far away from civilisation? If people find out that I'm in a house away from anyone else, on a road off the alleys, they only need to find the road and follow it. It's just too easy for me to be found, and…Killed?' Holding in a groan, she hit her head forcefully on the glass. The pain made her ears ring.
"She's a freak.." Someone muttered, and her ears pricked. Sighing, she didn't retaliate. She could hardly believe that she truly had become a freak, but it was far from untrue after the passing events. No normal person would sit and stare at a wall for days on end while in pain. They would at least cry. But now, as she thought about it, as much as the pain had frustrated her, it was clear that she hadn't cared about the pain, she would even go as far to say she had almost enjoyed it, it was being bound to a sofa that had pissed her off.
She felt Near's eyes on her before she saw them in the window reflection. Turning around to meet his dull stare, she raised an eyebrow in question. He bided his time, seeming to judge whether speaking would be wise. Deeming it safe, he opened his mouth to speak, but before any noise could come out, a loud squealing of tires deafened the people in the minivan. All eyes snapped to the driver, who was struggling to control the vehicle, to no avail. They flew off the road, but although the accelerator was no longer being held down, the wheels couldn't stop turning. They sped down the slope that seemed to grow steeper by the second, and the scent of smoke clouded Jet's mind. Seeing a sudden dip in the field ahead, which appeared to be fairly deep, perhaps a river, her survival instinct took over.
For Near, the next 34 seconds flew by him in a muddle of shouts, screams, smashing noises and bangs. All he could remember, as he sat in the field watching the van fly onwards down into a river, as all the screaming ceased, was Jet lunging up from her seat, yanking him from his after unclipping his seatbelt hastily, throwing the door open, and then all he could recall was white light and a relentless pain in his head. He couldn't see Jet anywhere, and stood up slowly to inspect the area. At a better vantage point, he could see her crawling after the van through the tall grass. The blood trickling down his neck was hot and sticky, no doubt staining his clothes and hair, and he walked stiffly after her, approaching the river where his team where drowning or trying to get out. If his instinct was correct, the appropriate behaviour right now would be to run and try and save people.
The water in the river was murky, and seemed to be insanely deep, gurgling around the minivan as if it were trying to swallow it and trap it on the bed of the river. The soggy and slippery mud and weeds made it hard to balance, and Near gripped a clump of sodden grass and leaned over the edge to peer into the van, as if checking to see if anyone was still alive. He could see the ripples caused from the struggling, and could also see how each flail of an arm freed the van from the mud at the side of the bank, making the van sink further into the water. Jet finally appeared beside him, but didn't assess the situation, swallowed in a deep breath of air greedily before slivering off the grass and into the water, set on saving the crew's lives.
Near watched as his only witness, the only person who had recent contact with Matt and Mello, slipped into the murky water, only just managing to pull herself through the water and not get carried away with the tide. He wanted to reach into the water and pull her back out, but she didn't seem to be the sort to reckon with, and so he sat on the bank and dipped his feet in. It felt like ice on his thin legs, and he bit his lip.
Sometimes, though, he decided as he slipped into the water, getting sick is worth it if you save a life.
Even if it's only the saviour that he manages to keep breathing.
Why is it that no matter how much you try to write loads, it never looks like much? Well, It's 2500+, so you can't really complain, I guess.
So Near has entered the scene! Eheh.
Sorry if there's grammar mistakes.. I did my best with the spelling.
As I took so long to update, my apology is that I'm taking any requests. ANY. Also, I'll give you cookies, and a pet unicorn. :)
Hope you enjoyed!
~x
