Emily looked around her, suddenly remembering where she was or, at least, what she was doing. She was dreaming- dreaming as she watched her mother smile and her father pat her head, as she watched her big brother teach her how to play catch...as she watched herself getting hurt and lost, and Beyond finding her. She watched the memories flash past like pictures in a diary before they are ripped out and burned to protect the soul hidden there as only a tear streaked down her face. The last picture faded and she was left standing there, staring at the oblivion before she heard a voice.

"They were nice, huh?" Emily looked up quickly, as if she was afraid that she'd miss the speaker, breathing easier with relief as she saw him.

Mello. Mello, with his trademark cockiness, his piercing azure eyes and his blond hair, was advancing towards her, the soft smirk on his face being the closest thing to a real smile he could ever get to as he looked at her. She felt a smile form on her face as he finally reached her, proud that she hadn't run to him, because she knew that if she had, she would never catch him, that he would always evade her grasp.

Mello came close- so wonderfully close- and kissed Emily on her mouth. He tasted so clean and sweet and so good. As always. Emily looked up into Mello's face, wondering why she was giving into her urge to hold his hands as her hands curled around his, holding on tight, hoping...Mello smiled indulgently, his blue eyes gleaming with reassurance. "You should know not to hold on. You should know that you have to let go. If you don't...well...you already know." Emily didn't listen- she was struggling to open her mouth, to tell him...what he didn't know, what he never was able to learn, who he never got to see.

Mello smiled at her again, the gleam leaving his eyes as he kissed her forehead before laughing, forcing Emily to listen to the gilded sound note for note, as the light of his eyes faded into the dark, oceanic color that she hated when she thought of Mello's real eye color. She watched in disbelief as his mouth whispered, "Goodbye for now, Deathie...I'll see you soon, Em."

Emily felt herself falling, falling and her grasp on Mello slip as she also felt splinters of ice pierce her skin as she saw for a second the death scene. Her eyes widened and she felt numb as she watched Mello die and her finding him once more. Suddenly, all feeling came back in a burst and she realized how much pain she was in. She watched Mello fade into the distance as she fell deeper into the black hole that seemed to never end. She covered her mouth with her hands, trying to keep in her tears as she fell and cried. "No! No!" She now screamed, arms outstretched for Mello. "Please come back, Mello! Don't leave me again! Please! Mihael!"

Emily burst out of the sleeping pill induced sleep as if she was being pulled up from the depths of the ocean. She wanted to resist reality, thinking instead of Mello, holding onto him. Pictures floated before her closed eyes; she heard his laughter, his voice. Saw his face, his eyes. Felt his hand on hers. But that is all fake crap. Mello's dead. This isn't a fairytale with happy endings. This is the world- as Kira saw and made it, as he wished it to be. So sad, such a waste of potential, such a shame.

The only thing that brought Emily back into reality was her little apartment's bedroom door creaking open and a small, sleepy eyed, black haired head poking in to see if she was awake. "Mama? Didja need something?" Her five-year-old son, Mihael, had his hand on the doorway as the other clutched a small teddy bear that once resembled Pooh to him as his blue eyes gazed at his mother reverently. He toddled over to her bed, allowing his mother to kiss his cheek as she hoisted him up, immediately snuggling into his "nest"-as he called his spot on Emily's bed- as he continued to look up at her, making Emily's heart squeeze as she realized- as she had before a million times- that Mello had given Mihael his eyes.

Emily sighed as she thought back to the months after Mello's death, to the days following. She could still picture her face when she had discovered that she was officially pregnant with Mihael- she had burst into tears in sheer horror. But she had gotten through it- she had always whispered that to herself as she had gone through the cravings and the sickness and the hormones that came with pregnancy. She had survived- but only because that she wanted to see Mello's child...and she had promised herself that she would love Mihael and take care of him until her last breath left her. Emily smiled as she stroked her child's head, whispering to him, "No, sweetie. Mama just had a bad dream. Everything is just fine, ok?" She stroked his black curls affectionately, her hand stilling when Mihael looked up at her and said with bluntness that only rivaled her own and Mello's, "But you called my name. You musta needed me for something, Mama."

Emily sighed, feeling like an idiot for forgetting that her child wasn't an ordinary five year old- he was far from it, inheriting his mother's need to skip two grades at a time and his father's need to succeed and intuition. She smiled a little, scooping Mihael up into her lap so that he was facing her as she said, "I was just really scared, honey. Besides, I didn't know that I was yelling- I didn't mean to wake you up." "You didn't wake me up, Mama- I was already awake." "Oh?" She looked into her son's eyes, surprised instead of angry. "Yeah. I was looking at pictures." "Of what?" "You when you were little and I when I was a baby. Mama," Mihael looked up at her, face solemn, "there's a boy with you in some of the pictures...and I found a picture of just him." "Oh?" Emily asked, feeling nervous. Mihael nodded before saying the words she had hoped he would never say: "Mama, who is Mello?"

Emily drew in a shuddering breath, not knowing what to say, how to explain to him about his father now. She wasn't ashamed of Mello- quite the opposite. She was just hoping that her pain would be gone, that her wounds would be healed, by the time Mihael wanted to know if he had a father. She heard herself say, "Mello was a special friend of mine when I was a teenager." "Oh." Mihael replied, flopping on his stomach before launching his next question of, "Why do you have his pictures?" Emily sighed and whispered to her son, "Because I secretly loved him. But shhh! Don't tell anyone!" "I won't, Mama. But did he lo-" "Shhh!" "Love you back?" Mihael whispered, smiling as his mother nodded. She returned the smile as she murmured, "We loved each other very much." "Is he my dad?" "...Yes, Mihael, he was." "Was?" "Your daddy...died just after I found out that God blessed me with you...I named you after him." "Oh..."

Mihael sat quietly for a moment before looking up at Emily and saying, "How did you meet? What was he like?" Emily trembled as she whispered, "I-it's time that you go back to bed. You have school in the morning." "Aww...Mama..." "It's way past your bedtime, Mihael-c'mon." Emily said, getting up and lifting Mihael, carrying him down the hall to his room, switching on the bedroom light so that she didn't trip on any clothes that were lying on the floor. ("I'll pick those up in the morning, Mama." Mihael promised as Emily stubbed her toe on one of his toy robots that was hiding under his blanket.) She plopped him on his bed and tucked him in, making sure that he was comfortable and wouldn't get up again, before reclaiming the photo albums that lay in a neat pile beside his bed. "Goodnight, sweetheart." Emily whispered, kissing his forehead and smoothing his curls as he lay down and closed his eyes obediently.

Emily closed Mihael's door softly as she left his room, sitting against it and sighing, her chin resting on her hands as her eyes bored a hole through the wall. She didn't know how to feel- happy that Mihael wanted to know about Mello? Or mortified because she didn't know how to describe what Mello had truly meant to her to their 5-year-old son? She didn't even know where to start. Emily hugged her knees, laid her head in her arms, hid her face and muffled her sobs as she let her confusion out in the only way she knew how- tears.

Mihael could hear his mother's tears and he knew- with a guilty pang that every child feels when they have distressed their mother- that his questions had caused her grief. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he tried to think of a way to fix the problem. He got out of his bed, kneeling besides it, his tiny hands folding and resting on his bed as his mother had taught him and began to whisper to the dark. "Lord, Mama is sad; I think it has to do with Daddy being gone. I want to help Mama get happy- she tries oh so very hard to make sure that I'm happy and healthy; I want her to be happy now. Please help me make Mama smile- please. If you do, I'll be the happiest boy on earth, God. Amen." Mihael opened his eyes and nodded to himself, climbing back up into bed and falling asleep, his hand clutching the one picture that Emily hadn't seen ever- a hand drawn creation made with crayons with three people on it, one shorter than the others, each person labeled with a name- Mama,Mihael, and Daddy.

Mihael's prayers were answered a month later as Emily started to unlock her apartment door, chattering with Mihael, grocery bags in their arms as a woman, perhaps the same age as Emily, approached them. ''E-excuse me, Emily?" Emily looked up, her temporary smile shrinking by a molar or two as she replied, "Do I know you?" the woman smiled hesitantly, looking down at her hands as she mumbled, "You used to...It's me, Amy." "A-Amy?" Emily gasped, nearly dropping the bag she was holding. Mihael stood, interested as he watched his mother invite her old friend in. Amy smiled tentatively at Mihael as Emily shut the door behind the three, turning to her guest, slightly embarrassed. "Excuse the mess, please. We've been all over the place the last few weeks with it being just a couple weeks before Christmas. Do you want something to drink? I was just about to get Mihael his snack." It was then did Mihael remember that he was hungry- he had been so immersed in watching this scene unfold that he had forgotten that he had been begging for a snack minutes before.

"No, thanks. I just needed to drop something off quickly." "...Please have a seat. Here you go, Mihael." Emily mumbled, placing a plate with a few cookies on it, along with a glass of milk, in front of him before sinking into the chair next to him, watching Amy do the same. She wasn't sure what was about to happen, but for some reason, a sense of relief washed over her as she looked across the table at Amy, waiting. The red haired girl took a deep breath, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out an envelope. "This is yours. I found it while I was cleaning up some of Matt's old ...gave it to him to give to you if he died. He didn't know that Matt... wouldn't make it." Emily saw, out of the corner of her eye, that Mihael had straightened up at the mention of his father's name. She sighed as she accepted the envelope, nodding with understanding as Amy mumbled, "I would've found it sooner, but...I just couldn't bring myself to go near his things until now." Emily nodded once more as she stood. "I'm glad that you found it. Thank you, Amy. It's always nice to see you." She smiled at her friend, noticing that her son's eyes were glued to the envelope as their guest stood as well. "And it's always lovely to see you doing well, Death. I-I meant..."

"...It's been so long since anyone has called me that. Do you want to stay for a bit? I can get you some coffee." Emily offered, absentmindly putting the envelope on the counter, promising herself that she'd read it later as Amy nodded. Mihael sighed with disappointment as he watched the two grownups go into the living room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. His eyes spied the white envelope, and he had the sudden urge to get it, to read it, to see what his father was like in words. After getting down from his chair, he dragged it over to the counter, hesitating to climb up as he looked to the living room. However, as he heard the whispers of his mother being choked with quiet tears, he made up his mind. Climbing up, he grabbed the envelope quietly, cautiously looking behind him to see if his mother had appeared. When he was satisfied that she was still in the living room, Mihael swiftly got down from the chair and ran to his bedroom, shutting the door and sprinting to his bed, getting on his knees to pull the box of pictures his mother had yet to confiscate, spreading the pictures Mello around him before opening the envelope quietly. He unfolded the thick page that formed a letter of regret with small, trembling fingers, his facial expression being a younger version of Mello's determined face as he finally found the start of the page.

Mihael took a deep breath before he started reading the letter aloud to himself, speaking in a whisper as he read, and reread the letter, trying to memorize his father's words by heart. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to figure out some of the words before making a mental note to ask his mother later, after she had read the letter herself. Thirty minutes later, Mihael could at least recite the two (lengthy) paragraphs of the letter by heart, which was good enough for him at this point. Creeping to his door and opening it a crack, he peeked out at the silent hallway, realizing that the guest had gone away and that his mother was on the couch, sobbing quietly to herself, as Mihael knew she always did. Tiptoeing up to his mother's form, he leaned over the arm of the sofa and kissed her on the forehead, smiling at her sadly as she looked up at him, surprised as she sat up, embarrassed.

"Hi, Mihael...Did you need something, honey?" Emily asked, looking slightly shocked as Mihael handed her the letter, looking up at his mother solemnly as he declared, "Can you read Daddy's letter?" Emily gaped at her son as he helped her unfold the creased paper since her fingers were trembling too much. "Please, mama? Please?" Mihael looked at her as tears slipped down her cheeks, determined to help his mother get her heart back together. And with a pale face, his mother began to utter Mello's words through trembling lips.

Dear Emily,

If you're reading this, it means that I'm gone...and you're possibly alone. I hope that...I didn't make your life unbearable, and that you managed to live and find love without me holding back. Heh...I don't think I'll ever forget the look in your eyes when you first walked into Wammy's- you had a fire, a glint of sharp glass that seemed to be lit with determination...you weren't going to break then, in front of strangers. You were possibly the only one who fascinated me at all, even more so then trying to beat Near. You have always confused and amazed me- from the first time we met to when we met again. I never expected to see you again after you ran away from Wammy's that day... I still regret it, and my behavior was...ugh... I hope that you forgave me for that...and all the other shit I put you through since the day I saved you from that gang.

I never fully understood you, but...somehow, you understood me perfectly- you knew what I was thinking, and you kept me from getting into even more trouble than I did. It wasn't until the very end did I realize that. And I want you to know that even though I wasn't anywhere close to it, you made me feel like I was actually the winner. Thank you...for everything...your love especially...\par

Sincerely,

Mihael Keehl

Mihael looked to his mother, patting her hand as he saw that tears were pouring faster down her face as he helped her whisper the postscript.

P.S: If you have a child, because of me, it's just God's way of telling you...that you don't have to cry anymore.

Love,

Mello

Emily let out a gasp as she read the line to herself, turning quickly to Mihael, seeing her son's gaze still lingering on the page. He looked up at her now, his wide innocent eyes reflecting his father's in so many ways that amazed and overwhelmed Emily all at once. In a flash, she was on her feet, Mihael in her arms as she planted kisses on his face, crying in both pain and happiness, reminding her of the night her child was made and she had cried in the same way. But now... things were different. Emily suddenly got a longing, a desire, a NEED to reveal to her son his father, their life together, everything she had hidden from him and more. Putting him down, she ran for their mudroom, pulling their winter coats off the hooks and their boots off the floor. Mihael followed and watched, curiosity urging him to ask, "What are you doing, mama?"

His response came as Emily helped him with his outdoor wear, zipping up his coat as she whispered, "We're going to see your daddy. It's his birthday." She pulled on her coat and shoes, holding tightly onto Mihael's hand as they exited the apartment and stepped onto the sidewalk, the cold New York air hitting their faces and the Christmas lights reminding them that it was December, and only a week or two from celebrating a savior's birth. Emily picked up her son and ran with him in her arms, guarding him from the city crowds and being trampled by shoppers as she looked for a simple convenience store to buy at least one thing before visiting Mello's grave...

"Chocolate?" Mihael asked as he watched his mother buy a bar of the candy, feeling his excitement mount as she nodded and smiled for the first real time in a long time. He grinned back, pulling his mother out the door, not waiting to hear the tiny bell tinkle as they exited, jumping up and down anxiously as his mother hailed a taxi expertly. Emily simpered at his excitement, helping her son into the cab and asking to be taken to the cemetery. Mihael remained quiet for the whole ride, holding his breath, anxiously fidgeting until his mother patted his curls, whispering, "It's o.k." Mihael calmed as the taxi pulled up to the cemetery gate, quickly scooting out as his mother paid the driver.

"It's this way, Mihael. Come on." Emily felt her son's hand curl tightly around her's as they walked past beautiful headstones and plain urns alike. She gulped as they approached the plot that housed only Mello for the time being, watching her son's face stay slightly impassive as he surveyed the grave before looking at Emily and saying with childlike simplicity, "Can I scrub the headstone?" She let out a grateful sigh as she nodded, watching her son do said task, she herself arranging the flowers that had begun to sprout around the gravestone before both the son and mother placed the cocoa candy on the headstone, their fingers lingering as Emily looked to the sky, wishing that she could see Mello. She closed her eyes as she thought of those precious gems of memories that she had acquired from Mello.

"Mama?" Mihael looked to the clouds, searching for his father as he murmured, "Please tell me your story. Tell me the story of daddy and you." Emily opened her eyes and glanced over, her glance being the direction from which laughter was coming from. She found the source to be a thirteen year old blond boy, his laughter and arrogance showing as he teased a girl a year younger than him, her raven curls falling on the thick Tolstoy in her lap as she first tried a stuttery defense before getting infuriated and closing the novel with a clap, slamming the book on the boy's head. Emily smiled as she watched them, remembering...and thinking of Mello and her at that age. She took a deep breath, pulled Mello into her arms...and her story began again.

She knew, that somewhere, Mello was smiling proudly as she gazed at the wildflowers that were scattered across his grave, and realizing that they belonged to Death...they belonged to her... Just like his love.

Whoo! It's finished! I'm so happy! And yet...it's sad... It feels as if Emily was my child- it's hard to watch her grow up and deal with Mello on her own. Therefore...

Thanks to all who stayed with Emily on this ride of her's! I feel indebted to all who read this story and who may go on to read Emily's complete story, which will come in my story "Nameless" and a collection of one shots that never made it into the story.

So thank you again, and I hope that you all have a wonderful new year that's filled with stories.