Hmm. It appears I have a (don't read, tender children!) SHITload of explaining to do. Um ... let me summarise.

1. Sickness.

2. Work Experience of two incredibly tiring weeks.

3. REHEARSALS, of which me life have consisted of for FAR TOO LONG.

4. Fourth Year.

5. LAMDA.

6. PLAY!! It was ... amazing.

7. Eirtakon! EPICNESS 101!!

8. ... best part of all ... uh ... my, uh ... boyf! ;) He he he, I'm so ridiculously excited. Awwww, you'd love him. He played Romeo in our play, glayly enough, and I had to step in for Juliet for a day, and well, you know how it goes ...

BUt I apologise profusely, my darling, beautiful readers, from the bottom of my lowly pathetic heart. I grovel 'pon my knees for your fprgiveness and beatitude. I don't deserve you. But I pray you accept my offering to the alter of fan fiction, and my assurance that thing's'll be better from here.

I'M SORRY. FORGIVE ME. I LOVE YOU ALL.

Pairings: Eh ... nothin' really in this chappie ...well, actually that's a total lie. What do YOU see? ;)

Songs: Everybody's Fool, Evanescence for good old Charlie ... it's HER SONG, and Hang Onto Your IQ, by Placebo. ;)

Shout out to: Since I want to get this right out there, like, NOW, I'm going to be horribly impersonal and say EVERYONE, thank you so incredibly much, and I'm so sorry. Thanks for the reviews; Rat, Pisces, smearedliner, Paula-fol, Con FTW, Nima Loves You, Lexy-love, and Gwenny Dear.

THANKS FOLKS SO MUCH!! I promise next chappie I'll be more personal, but until then, I give you CHAPTAAAAAAAH!! AT LAST!!!!!!

-

Phase 11: Truth

-

Defend me, friends … I am but hurt …

-

'You know, Mello. I think this is great,' Matt said, unexpectedly, from his position sprawled over Mello's bed. Mello peered up from the spot on the table he was staring at, and slipped an earphone off.

'What's great? What are you talking about? And get off my bed.'

Matt merely chuckled, and turned over, propping himself up on his elbow in a way that reminded Mello distinctly of the girls that had frequented whatever mafia base he had been in. The ones with the skirts that generously could be said to skim the thigh. The ones who had tried many, many times to part Mello and his cash and innocence. And if they had succeeded, Mello had never told Matt.

'This,' Matt said, gesturing vaguely around himself, and grinning.

'Getting to bond like this.'

He winked, pillowing his head on his folded hands, and settling onto his back. Mello stared in disbelief.

'My God, Matt, what cocktail of drugs did they feed you when I left?'

'Prozac will do that to you,' Matt said, tapping his nose knowledgably. Mello paused for a moment, sounding out the comment.

A dig? An admission? A joke? God, he hated this! Why wasn't anything simple anymore? The one person he had thought he could rely on to stay the same had gone and changed completely.

'Hmm,' he huffed, noncommittally, feeling like an idiot. Matt waited a moment before speaking again.

'So, uh … getting anything good?'

'Sort of … at the moment, there's a big dramatic pause, and she's giving a wind-up …'

'To what?'

Mello turned to Matt and smiled. The smile that Matt always described as 'sick'.

'To us, naturally. Who else is possibly as interesting as we are in this place?'

A smile twisted the corner of Matt's mouth.

'That's depressing.'

'Yeah, well … be prepared. The dirty laundry is being aired,' Mello said, as if he relished this, and leaned back.

'This is going to be one hell of story.'

oOo

'You're going to think I'm crazy. You're going to realise that you don't know me at all,' Charlise warned the crowd of genii, sleept-eyed and disgruntled at having been roused from sleep. But the time had come.

Charlise had tried to avoid it for so long, but here she was; almost eighteen years old. And only now did she fully understand that the lies had to stop.

Cheshire settled back in her chair, and sighed.

'Do hurry up, Charlie. It's late, we're tired, and none of us are going to rest until you're finished.'

Charlise faltered, looking around at the faces. Crash, worried, nursing his coffee. Cheshire, betraying no hint of fatigue despite the late hour and the long trip she had endured. Twix, looking half-asleep and very vulnerable in her dressing gown. Nervous Austin, looking at her perceptively, through his grey eyes. And last of all, weary, weary Paris, staring at her beneath the dark shadows of tiredness, and the silky hanks of hair hanging over his face in an attempt to hide them. He looked so haunted and alone, that Charlie felt guilty for what she was about to ask of him.

'R-right,' she agreed, continuing pacing, her face turned towards the ceiling. A knot of anxiety clenched in her stomach with a growl of irritation, before she pushed them aside, and started talking.

'Mello is ranked Second. Second, as Near is first.'

It felt wrong saying the words when she didn't agree and wasn't sure they were true. But that was the conception, and as such, she'd stick with it.

'Second to success L, of course. Matt … third, maybe fourth. I was never sure …'

She frowned in thought, before continuing.

'When … when L died, I was still a child. So was he; so was Matt. I … I was young; I had other things to worry about. I didn't realise the severity of the situation for a few years. By the time I did – things had moved on.'

This wasn't coming out right. It was a hard thing to say. And for that reason, she closed her eyes, and tried to see it in her head, and see it that way.

'When my father died, there was only me.'

Me and Dixon. …

The auburn haired boy with the big scared eyes and the trembling lips. There was nothing to say to calm him, but, don't worry, Dominique. I'll always protect you.

We were … alone. But luckily, there was one person who came to take responsibility for us.

Keiji Takayama wasn't a young man by any stretch of the imagination. But his dark eyes were kind, and had the right kind of wrinkles. The ones that creased around the gentle eyes, and he looked every inch the grandfather Charlise had wanted to know. Wrinkles were important, after all.

He guided us, cared for us, and when I told him that I had a task to do, he facilitated me to the best of his ability.

Even though, as soon as he realised that she was a genius, every vestige of childhood had whispered away overnight. It was the price she had to pay.

I had a task to do. And I was sure, I couldn't do it alone.

Childish tears trickling down freckled cheeks, only one thought in her head: I can't live like this. The day she realised she needed help.

So. I packed up my life, my heart, and found Wammy's. And there, I deposited Dixon, the only place he'd be safe, and began my task in earnest.

He was still so young. So was she, and she hated this. Don't leave me, he begged. There was nothing she wouldn't have done to have committed herself, too, alongside him, and stay nursed in the safety of Wammy's. But Takayama's hand on her shoulder served more of a purpose than just comforting. A reminder. You have a task.

Besides; she wasn't really a child anyway.

I went to Roger. I asked him for someone in the same league as L. He told me, 'there is no-one'.

Stony cold eyes unsettling him in the young face. She didn't care. She wanted someone in L's league; and there was no-one. No-one he could give her contact with.

There truly was no-one. Unless I had the disposable funds of a small country, I was helpless. No funds. No support. I was just one girl with the help of one man; undeserving of anyone's time.

Hopeless. She could read it in Takayama's eyes. But she was more strong-willed than she realised.

But I … pestered.

'Someone had to take his place.'

'Someone did.'

'Who?'

And then, the silence.

I wouldn't be put off. Eventually, after pleading, begging, threatening …

'Fine! Near!'

'Near? Near what?'

'His name. It's Near.'

'Ah. Near …'

She tested the name, rolling it over her tongue, just another tile in the unfamiliar mosaic of this new language.

'Where can I find him?'

He succumbed. To get rid of me. And put me in contact with Near. Looking back, it seems odd … obviously, he knew …

The look of sorrow in her eyes. The bend in her shoulders. The determination in her face …

He knew I was different.

One phone call. One. To Near. That was all I was allowed. It was a waste; a betrayal, when I needed help so badly. Even with a reference from Roger … he made me feel like dirt.

Nerve-wracking; certainly. L's successor. But she was deserving of his respect, as much as she was of his. Roger had guessed this, from one conversation from the hardly human child. Not robotic like Near; not explosive like Mello … otherworldly. With something in her eyes that made Roger feel eerily as if she had already died.

But Near's voice gave her no comfort. No compassion. An eloquently brutal refusal. That was all. She didn't like to think of it; even years later. She had felt like … trash. Like dirt beneath his feet.

For a while, I wondered if he was correct in his assumption. Was I just … destined to fail? I went back to Roger, anyway … I had to.

'Is he … okay?'

The older man's eyes were blank, with just a hint of kindness.

'He's not settling in very well. He just needs some time. It's been hard on him.'

And she silently absorbed this.

And I asked him. For more.

'There is no more, Charlise. There is no-one else. If Near refused you, then accept his refusal. I can't help you. I won't.'

He wasn't … forthcoming. But that has never stopped me before.

'You lie. There was more than one successor. The entire aim of this hole is to groom children to succeed him! Where are the others?'

'We don't keep files once they leave! Everyone in the league you're looking for is gone, or dead! They've disappeared!'

'There has to be someone who can help me! I need someone. I don't care how hard I have to search, I'll find them! Just … tell me who to look for, and I'll leave you alone!'

Perhaps it'd be true to say it was a bribe he couldn't refuse.

'Fine! You asked for it! Go, go travel the world, search the graveyards and the drug-dens and the war-zones of the world, and see if you can find a boy called Mello. He's your last hope.'

And that was the first I heard of him. All of those many years ago. Mello ... Second.

'Mello? Just Mello?'

Maybe it was the spark of enthusiasm, so out of place that let the pity swell to fill his heart, and force the words out of his mouth.

'Or Matt. A gamer. Maybe he'll be easier to find. Mello's friend; and he was Third. He's a hacker.'

'Please. About Mello –'

'I don't know. I don't know anything else. He left about a year or two ago; I haven't heard from him. He's a few years older than you. That's all I know. Please, leave me, now. Get out. I don't want to think about them any more. I don't want to know. Leave me alone.'

And when he hid his face in his hands, she left without a whisper of thanks, leaving him to the silence he so desired.

I won't bore you with the details of the next few years …but they were difficult …

'Merde!' the red-haired girl shrieked, ripping her latex glove off as the acid bit through to her skin. She stared at the blistering skin as she ran it under the tap and met the eyes of her guardian over the counter-top.

'I wish I could say I'm close,' she sighed, her heavy accent rendering the words stiff.

'You're doing well, Charlise-chan.'

'Not well enough. I can't evade much longer. I – I can't do it alone.'

Takayama's eyes were soft.

'We will persevere.'

Perplexing …

'What do you mean? How can his trail have just … ended? What, we just have him, and he enters the Mafia … and he's gone? How does that work? We have to find him!'

The old Japanese man looked around worriedly, lowering his voice as he leaned over the heavy silver bike.

'His trail is cold. They are protecting him. But give up the thought of him for a moment, Charlie-chan. They are closing in on us. This city is no longer safe for you. Travel westwards. I'll contact you. But leave – now. Their attack is imminent. I'll distract them. Go. Forget Mello.'

'Tout vient à point à qui sait attendre …' she frowned, staring at the traffic lights ahead. Every dog has their day …

Then she kicked the bike to life and sped away, every inch the angry youth.

And dangerous.

Panic. Closing in … fail fail fail don't let him die failfailfail abort abort abort abort save me, maman I love you HELP M

And then …

… the silence, as her world engulfed itself in flame.

… I won't bore you with the details.

I had to forget about Mello; soldier on alone. I couldn't get to him. He was untouchable, and I was basically alone. I had other things requiring my attention. But over time, without me even noticing, Deneuve … you … gathered around me.

'You can trust me,' Crash had smiled, upon their meeting. And Charlie had stared up at him, as if she didn't understand the words. But as the others gathered, it was a concept she began to slowly understand.

And suddenly … we were an organisation. I was no longer alone. And you all had your reasons for wanting Kira gone. Even if we were all just thrown together to escape other dangers.

Eventually, we all realised all of our problems related back to Kira. Kira is the source. If we eradicate Kira … our problems disappear. And so … the task began in earnest.

'It's a tough call …' Paprika said, absently filing her nails.

'Yes,' Charlise agreed, limping to the window to gaze into the dull street below. 'I understand that it will be difficult. But of all of us, you are the most suited to the position, Paprika.'

The pale eyes were free of deceit, as always, and Paprika bit her lip. She couldn't deny it, though. Twenty-one years old, beautiful, sassy, street-wise Paprika … well used to revolving in shadier circles. But … could she? Wouldn't she blow it? Looking at focused, controlled young Charlise … there was no way she'd be able to play the part. This was Paprika's duty .. another step in the plan; and she'd do it.

'Okay. I'll join the Mafia, and look out for this kid … but if I die, I want a seriously dramatic funeral.'

Charlise smiled, a secret dimple popping into view.

'Je promets,' she assured the Spanish girl, whose brow relaxed as she nodded.

And for a while … things went well. Paprika climbed the ranks, as you know …and you knew she was looking for someone for me, but business went on as usual here.

'Do we need a new batch of test subjects, Char?' Crash asked, moving a crate of pewter-coloured bottles. Charlise slipped her goggled away and sighed.

'Yes, it looks like. Maybe we should pity the poor rats and start testing trainee medical students instead,' she said, dolefully, as Crash chuckled.

'Don't be hard on yourself. We're getting there.'

He bumped the small French girl cheerfully. And for the first time, she didn't flinch away.

But Mello … he was no-where to be found.

'Too well-guarded. He's hidden, Char,' Paprika whispered down the pay-phone. Charlie was very still in Headquarters, deep in thought.

'He's protected by them.'

Charlie hissed, aggrieved. Things had been going so well. And then, of course, their target had to disappear off the map.

'Maybe he's dead?' Paprika suggested. Charlie shook her head, though Paprika wouldn't be able to see her.

'No. He's not dead. I'd know,' she said, with conviction. She would, too. She may have never laid eyes on the boy, but she felt that she knew him too well, now. They were linked, like it or not.

'Paprika. I have an idea …' Charlie said suddenly, and Paprika tensed in anticipation.

'Did I ever tell you about the SPK?'

And so, the investigation moved on, and changed direction. And we were doing so well in the lab! Everything was well …

'LEFT!'

Paris swerved left, his entire body locked in concentration.

'RIGHT!'

The car dragged in the other direction. With one sharp glance in the mirror, he knew how things would pan out.

'DUCK, CHARLIE, DUCK!'

The girl dived to the floor, as the windows smashed with gunfire.

'Damn it!' Paris roared, crossing hands and wrenching the wheel around, so the car spun in a tight donut.

'Hold on!' he advised Charlise, as he stamped on the accelerator, and they booted down an alley, all guns blazing, running for their lives.

… There is no rest for us wicked. We have always been pursued, by those who covet what we have. I used to think there was good in everyone … now I realise that the only good in anyone is the desire to save others.

A red-haired boy smiling gappily. The image fading sadly to a sullen bleach-haired youth.

Saving people from each other.

Faceless Kira, spreading misery wherever their hand reached.

And themselves.

Mello. Just Mello.

'That is my aim. I realise that the time has come for me to share this with you, and pray you will join me in earnest. Because that is my sole intention.'

Charlie snapped back into the present, trying to shake the lingering images from her mind. Deneuve stared up at her, bemused, shocked, seething, stumped. She looked into every face, preparing herself for what was yet to come. When she would present their choices to them.

A window caught her attention in the moment before she would speak; a blank window with a view of nothing but a square of pitch sky, and all she could think of was here the lies stop, and the brutal truth begins.

'With Mello's help; your help …we can end this suffering. If we trust; we work …Set aside all differences, all grudges … if we are prepared to sacrifice ourselves, it can be ended. All of it.

'I know. It's a desperate outlook. But that's all I've ever been about, even if I never told you. You think it's crazy. You think it's over the top. Too much. A ridiculous waste. But everything I ever loved has been stolen from me. I have only lived to end the suffering of those who have suffered as I have. My sole purpose is to rid the world of Kira, to stop the killing.

'I have been prepared since my childhood to sacrifice myself for the cause. It's … the only real thing about my life.'

The smile on her face was tragic. It reminded Paris of the look on Juliet's face as she gazed down at Romeo, dead before her. The small, sad smile of perfect love, and sacrifice. It was the first play he'd seen, and the inspiration for his name.

'I know. I ask a lot. But I ask one thing more – don't do this lightly. I would beg you to leave if you value your life. Leave. Don't waste it unless you're sure you feel the same way. This is not for the faint of heart. This … this is for us sincere fools.'

Her voice dropped in volume, and Paris strained to hear her, even though she knew, before she even started to speak that what she would say would horrify him.

'Since I was a little girl, all I've wanted is to stand back in the family portrait, stiff and unsmiling with my mother, father and sweet little brother. I'd give up anything for it. And Kira stole it all from me.

'There's nothing left for me. Except revenge.

'I know. It's a different picture than I sold you when you entered. Well, now you know. I'm not that sweet. I'm not that innocent. I'm not blood-thirsty. I'm just … broken. Maybe I'll never be fixed. Maybe not even revenge will work. But I owe it to everyone like me to at least try.

'I know it's a lot to ask of anyone. Especially people like you. I know we're not exactly normal, but we get by. We all have our reasons for being here … but I wipe the slate as of now. If you want to leave, I won't stop you. Or think any the worse of all. All I will do is to thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your dedication and help and tell you, in honesty and truth … I could never have done it without you.

'If you stay, I cannot guarantee your survival. I'm telling you that now. I can't guarantee it at all. So when you come to decided, make sure you know the price you might pay.'

She limped to the door of the elevator, ready to make a swift getaway, her very bones feeling weary, her heart feeling broken, Mello and Dixon's faces mingling strangely in her mind.

'Goodnight, everyone. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But it's a great release to have it in the open. I never kept you under false pretences, I never endangered your lives more than I could possibly help. But now we come to make a choice. I hope … I pray that your decision will not lead to any more tragedy. It's the last thing this world needs.

'Goodnight, my friends. Goodnight.'

And as the elevator doors clanged shut, a tear slipped from the corner of the French girl's eye. It hurt to realise …

She'd had everybody fooled.

Look, here she comes now
Bow down and stare in wonder
Oh, how we love you -
No flaws when you're pretending

But now I know she
never was and never will be
You don't know how you've betrayed me
And somehow,

You've got everybody fooled ...

- Everybody's Fool, Evanescence

Review me. Love me. I don't deserve it, but please ... I'm dyeing Mello's hair soon. Most inventive shade shall be included ...

So. What colour shall the Mello locks be turned? It's down to you, my fols. ;)

- Wraithlike xxx