Sting
Near's feet pound on the sidewalk. Matt holds his hand tighter and drags him forwards a few steps. Near didn't know it was possible for him to run this fast, but with Mello and Matt physically hauling him along, he swears he can hear wind rushing past. His lungs ache. He can't see. He hates this. He keeps running.
The seven boys chasing them are yelling and jeering. People on the street are just getting out of the way, shocked expressions, backing up and holding onto their bags tightly, unsure of how to react. Until someone yells,
"STOP! Police!"
Well thank fuck.
"Matt!" Mello, grabs him and drags him in the direction of the voice. Matt, in turn, pulls Near along with them, still by the firm hold on his hand. The officer is coming down the steps, badge out, looking furious. It's probably partially relief at being able to do something concrete, rather than chasing ghosts and shadows.
"Thank you," wheezes Mello, nearly crashing into him, staggering to a halt just behind him. Matt isn't sure how Mello negotiates the low concrete steps at such high speeds, but somehow he manages to not kill himself. Another man comes forwards and takes his arm to steady him. He looks concerned. Fatherly.
The boys that were chasing them have scattered into the crowd. Matt clutches a hand to his chest.
Near dives for the youngest of the police men and and ducks behind him. He's wearing his customary outfit. Matt and Mello had decided it was best for him to dress however he was comfortable, for today. They'd need for him to be at his sharpest.
"We-we," Matt points back in the direction they were coming from, "th-they were," purposefully choosing to speak English. None of the four men do, apparently, because they all look at each other in concern. This is good. This is according to plan.
Near looks up at Matsuda, and Matt thinks he looks genuinely terrified. He hopes he'll be alright.
Matt looks over his shoulder again, and reaches to check the zipper of his back to make sure it hasn't fallen open in the chase. One of the officers puts a firm, comforting hand on his shoulder, and ushers him solicitously back towards the building. The batcave.
He owes Hong and his friends a whole lot of cigarettes, and a nice bottle of tequila, if he can get his hands on one. Or sake. Maybe they'd prefer sake. Matt doesn't know what they drink here. Whatever it is, unless it's worth it's weight in gold, he'll buy it for them. The triumph as they come through the doors is immense.
So, breathing raggedly, they're all ushered into the front of the building. Yagami Sr goes for water, since Near is still clinging to Matsuda. Mello thinks he might be overdoing it a tad, but they haven't been thrown out. Yet. God bless police officers, wherever you go, they're predictable. All helpful and protective and so very exploitable.
Later, when L grills them about the plan from then on in, they're forced to acknowledge that the next sequence of events are only successful due to phenomenal good luck. With a complete lack of knowledge about inner protocols, they had just sort of decided to, well, play it by ear. Hope that the officers will get them somewhere comfortable.
That it's not going to happen is evident the moment they're through the doors. The massive security measures are not something they're going to be taken through lightly, just for the sake of a glass of water and a deep breath. Matt doesn't have to bother to hide the annoyance on his face. They've just been chased down by bullies, right? He's allowed to be angry. It'd probably look worse if he was trying to hide something.
Mello thinks he's going to panic. Further. The tasteful, shiny glass walls are closing in on him. He watches Matt, who takes his backpack off so he can sit. He watches Sighurd, who's standing smack in the middle of the doorway, watching the proceedings with bemusement. Not speaking, offering help or advice, or involvement.
Near tries to think of a way to stall for time, as the glass is put into his hand. They're settled into chairs, and Matsuda starts trying to get statements or descriptions or whatever, as Mello's eyes roam the room quickly. Scanning for something.
Anything.
Just at the point where they're going to have to go, where things are going to stop being natural and start being painfully obvious, here that anything comes, in the form of a blond, be-lipsticked idol, emerging from the elevator with a purse and a sunny smile. Misa is wearing a pink concoction, all lace and frippery, and Mello watches Matt watching her and remembers again that he really, really hates her.
Even though they haven't exchanged a single word.
Near, though, Near, has the presence of mind, as she walks past him, to gasp.
"Misamisa!"
She looks at him.
He looks up at her.
They all watch the pieces fit together in her eyes, as she takes in the big eyes and the shaking hands.
"Near! What's the matter? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She's on him, mothering him, smothering him, and he doesn't object because this is good. The police officers are staring, open mouthed, as she fusses.
Matt looks over at Mello, and grins, and maybe Mello hates Misa just a little bit less now. For the whole 'trying to help Near' thing. And everything.
Matt lifts his hands to adjust his goggles, which he isn't wearing, and after smiling, momentarily looks back at Near and Misa.
"They attacked us." Near is glad he's supposed to be upset. It means he doesn't have to improvise what to say. He won't be expected to give a coherent reply that doesn't sound like it came out of a text book or strategical guide, which would ruin the whole illusion immensely. Instead, he opts for lapsing into silence.
"They were chasing us," Matt steps in for him, stepping closer and nodding, confirming what Near said, "I mean, we walked by and they were just all around us, and they said to give us their money,"
Mello cuts in, in his broken Japanese, possibly playing up the difficulty in speech a little more than he usually would, but it doesn't hurt to seem incompetent when you're trying to take advantage of someone. "and we were going to and everything, but they said we didn't have enough, so one of them hit me and we ran."
Matt and Near both nod.
"Where are you staying?" Misa asks.
Mello looks at Matt.
"I..." Matt thinks hard, and glances at his feet. Says 'ptarmigan' in English. Switches back to Japanese. "Don't know the word."
"Chief," Matsuda, "Light speaks English very well, doesn't he?"
Shit, thinks Mello. Aizawa, who was looking at him, frowns suddenly, and interjects,
"They seem better. They can probably go. And we don't want to disturb..." there's an unnaturally long pause, and Matt isn't sure what he means but he bets it's pretty important, he bet's it's something to do with the Kira investigation and he can't help but look curious because he wants to know, "...Light's engaged, isn't he, at the moment?"
Er.Matt and Mello glance at each other. This is not what they would call a promising development.
Saved by Misa again, though, she pouts and hurls her arms around Near. This only makes him look slightly more alarmed than he was to begin with, but she either fails to notices this or can't be bothered to connect it with anything that she's doing. Matt can't decide which.
"Get Misa's Light to come down. Misamisa wants to give Near a ride home. He shouldn't have to walk when he and his friends are so out of breath. Misa cannot drive all over the city, though." She gives Matt a kind of reproachful look. As though it is his fault he exists. As though he was probably the one who got Near into this trouble to begin with. Come to think of it, that's actually not all that far from the truth.
"He's my foster brother," Matt uses the same excuse as before. Only, this time, Near hears it and he grins at him, which is the first real expression Matt has ever seen on his face. Happy is a good look for Near.
Wow, this is all going really quickly.
Mello is a little more on top of things than Matt. He's listening to the huge man page this Light person, trying to think of a place they can stay that doesn't sound too much unlike ptarmigan, but that will also be a legitimate lodging and not an arctic bird.
Hostel, ptarmigan, they won't be able to tell the difference, right?
And the police detective is still looking at them funny. The old one is starting to as well, now. This just isn't good. They have nothing to reassure them with; in fact, their suspicions are incredibly well founded. True, even. Except for that they don't want to cause any harm, they just want to stay.
"We could get Watari," the younger man suggests to the 'chief,' and Mello hopes his face doesn't betray the fact that he really, really doesn't want them to get Watari.
Apparently, it does. Aizawa's hand closes firmly around Mello's arm. Fuck. That's torn it, then.
Bing.
Several things happen simultaneously.
The doors to the elevator start to slide open. The chief takes two steps towards Matt, to get a hold of him. Matt dances away, and scoops his backpack off the floor, and clutches his backpack to his chest, as though it's something precious. Misa tightens her hug on Near, who makes a noise like an alarmed mouse might. Mello jerks to try to get out of Aizawa's hands.
A young, put together, confident looking young man steps out of the elevator. Mello takes in the handcuff around his wrist first. He follows the chain backwards with his eyes to the figure staying in the shadows.
The hunched shoulders, the shining, large eyes, the thumb in the mouth, the messy hair and rumpled clothing and barely visible bare feet.
L.
Time freezes.