Not too much time had passed since you had taken the pregnancy test. Within that time, Mr. Smith had reintroduced himself as the latest lawyer of Wammy's, and the only brother of Roger.

"He told me all about you," your boss told you one day. You weren't on a case currently. You had finished your last murder case yesterday and were taking a day off.

"Oh, yeah? What did he say?" You were interested in knowing what was going down with Wammy's, even though it still hurt. Your heart tugged, and you placed your hand on your chest.

Your boss placed his hand on yours and smiled. "You'll be okay. He said Wammy's is doing well. He told me to tell you he knows a good place to buy action figures. He said you'd know, too, and you should go. He said you'd know what that meant. I didn't know you liked toys, Hail... Hail?"

He looked at you with a concerned expression. Your eyes were far away and clouded with tears. Roger obviously meant Near. You pursed your lips and shook your head. You didn't want to cry in front of your boss again. It made him feel awkward, and you didn't want him to be in a position of such awkwardness again.

He patted your shoulder. "Why don't you try to work?" he asked you, trying to keep your mind off of things. You smiled as best as you could and a tear fell. Damn, you were tired of crying.

Eight Months Later

You smiled down at a small baby. The bundle was warm in your tired arms. The small body let out a yawn and then a cry, and you rocked him gently. He had Matt's eyes. You wondered if this was what Matt had looked like as a baby.

"Time for Mommy to get some rest," the nurse sang as she took Matt away from you. Your eyes widened and you almost yelled out a cry of devastation, but your tired mouth wouldn't open.

Your eyes closed and you slept.

Several Hours Later

You opened your eyes again and the room was filled with flowers and balloons. Most of them were from your boss and even a few from Wammy's, but there was an especially cute balloon tied down by a weight on the table next to you. It said, "IT'S A BOY!" in happy, swirly letters.

On the string was a note. It read:

"To: Hail and Matt

From: Near"

"Near...?" you said, the word, neither a question nor statement. Your voice was only a whisper. You tried to talk again, but it was like your voice was strained. You could barely speak.

You thought about it. Name the baby Matt? That hadn't crossed your mind, honestly. You hadn't thought of a boy name yet. You had been hoping for a girl.

Your lips turned at the corners to make a smile. Matt. What a perfect name.

--

The nurse came in that night and told you you had hurt your voice box during labor. She promised it would heal itself, and that you could go home within the next few days, You sent a prayer to Matt, telling him about the baby. Then you sent a thought to Mello, telling him how much you missed him, and that no amount of agony he was in will never be as bad as labor.

Within the past eight months, you won your first big case, proving in not time flat that your client was innocent. You also turned nineteen. More importantly, you realized sweat didn't bother you.

When you sweat, it was like nothing. You didn't even realize it anymore. It would happen, and occasionally you'd worry about why it didn't bother you anymore, and sometimes you'd wonder why it ever did. In labor, all you could think about was the pain. It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't a tickle, either. You didn't notice how sweaty you were until the nurse wiped your forehead.

Wow, Matt. You are always with me, huh?

--

When you were finally home, in a house that you could finally support without your boss' help, you put your baby in his cradle and watched him sleep.