Disclaimer:Death Note, as stated in the previous chapter, is not mine.
Rating: M
Warnings: Largely death based theme, very bad French, very skewed opinions on what Heaven is, mentions of rape/prostitution, eating disorders, language
AN: I'm amazed by how much you guys seem to like this... I... can't really think of anything else to say about that... Other than thank you! :D
I don't like this chapter as much as the previous one - I feel that it's far too choppy and inconsistent, and just doesn't flow. It could have been written so much better...
Near may be slightly OOC, but that's because I haven't had a chance to build on his character - he will be IC by the next few chapters, I promise.
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Chapter Two
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Near would always remember the day that held what was, quite possibly, the largest turning point in his relationship with Mello.
It was his first, full day at Wammy's, and it started out fairly normally - Near got up, explored for a few hours, showered, and went to breakfast. He was well-accustomed to sitting by himself - with only Optimus Prime for company - at mealtimes and most other times, so it came as no shock to him that he was alone with his only friend at his breakfast table.
Most of the other children were talking and laughing loudly amongst themselves, so Near sat Optimus on the table in front of him as he ate some of his soup (it was one of the only foods that he could keep down), and spoke quietly to his toy.
"How are you this morning?"
Optimus - Heaven, trapped in a plastic body - watched silently as Near blew some of the steam away from his soup, and ate another spoonful.
"I am quite well, though my sleep was... unsatisfying.
Near imagined, for one moment, that Optimus Prime's plastic brow creased with concern.
"I'm confused as to what I am supposed to do," Near continued, "Roger didn't tell me when I start lessons, so... I don't know." Near took another sip of his soup. "This soup is very nice. Tomato, I think..."
"Who are you talking to?"
Near looked up to find a blonde boy standing in front of him. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?" he asked politely.
The boy sneered at him and said, "I'm your roommate, dumbass."
Near had woken up at 3am that morning, just like he usually did. He hadn't seen Mello at all, so it wasn't surprising that he didn't recognise the blonde. "My apologies."
Mello rolled his eyes, sat down at Near's table uninvited, and asked, "So who were you talking to?"
Near couldn't say that he was talking to his mother; he'd look insane because she wasn't there - Heaven didn't exist anymore.
"No one," he replied quietly, and the words burned his throat. It had taken a while to accept it, to accept that she was actually gone - he'd known it to be fact for a while, but had played it off as some kind of sick joke, and had expected her to come and get him from Lucy's with a smile on her face and an explanation on her tongue; it had never really sunk in until he'd seen pictures of their old house, now nothing more than a pile of burned wood, and a photograph of his mother's gravestone. She'd been buried beside Near's grandparents, and Near knew that that was where she'd want to be.
Mello raised an eyebrow, and said, "...Right. Anyway, Roger asked me to tell you about things here at Wammy's. First thing's first: Don't talk to yourself at breakfast, unless you want the other kids to bash you so that they don't catch your crazy. Second of all, why do you have a toy at the table?"
Near hugged Optimus defensively. "To play with." He thought that it was obvious - he wanted company from someone who wouldn't notice his filth, who wouldn't judge him, who wouldn't ask him to work, who would miss him if he was gone - someone perfect, like his Maman.
"Okay... Third point: Why the hell are you playing with a toy at the table? You've gotta be what... Five? Six?" Mello asked as he pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket and started unwrapping it.
"I'm seven," Near said flatly, "and, though I appreciate it, I don't need your help. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you." How dare Mello insult Heaven - didn't he know that God wouldn't want him if he did that?
Mello's fairly amiable expression quickly changed into one of anger. "I'm trying to help you out here, newbie," he said in a low, threatening voice.
Near stood up. "And I said that I appreciate it, but it's unnecessary." He quickly started walking away, with no destination in mind. He'd gone this way this morning and found nothing interesting - the common room, a few empty storerooms, a classroom, and a bathroom. Near went into the common room and found himself a secluded corner, where he sat down and resumed his conversation with Optimus Prime.
"Mello... He's my roommate... Apparently, I have to be careful around him," Near said softly, hugging one knee to his chest and holding his toy at arm's length. "It's not that I dislike him... I don't really know him well enough to pass judgement... but he seems to be arrogant and far too used to getting his own way for my liking."
Optimus stared at him and Near imagined for a moment or two that its plastic eyes narrowed slightly.
Near sighed quietly and started playing with his hair with his free hand. "Don't look at me like that. He is."
Optimus continued to look at Near disapprovingly, until Near sighed again and apologised.
"I'm sorry, Maman... He was just trying to help, after all..." He couldn't bring himself to feel upset by the way that he'd just addressed his toy - it was how he'd always addressed it, after all, and he wanted the address to be true with all his heart (even when he knew that his heart was filthy and didn't deserve to have any of its deepest desires fulfilled).
"But... I'm scared," he continued in a whisper, "because there is no one that I know here, and I don't want to make friends because... b-because what happens if they ask me f-for... that?" Near shuddered lightly. "My last friend did. Do you remember Adam? I... He forced me to do that... He didn't even give me any money..."
Near imagined that Optimus' eyebrows drew together in a scowl.
Near frowned lightly. "I needed the money, Maman. Don't look at me like that. It isn't my fault." And that was true - he'd kicked and screamed silently, and put up such a good defence that he could hardly remember it now (he'd somehow managed to convince himself to forget most of it). The only thing that evidenced that the incident had happened at all were the scars littered across his torso from Adam's nails and a small Swiss-Army knife.
"...But it isn't your fault, either... I'm sorry, Maman," he mumbled, noticing that some other children were giving him odd looks. He smiled tentatively at them, and they immediately ran to the other side of the room. Near sighed once again - everyone would always hate him, no matter what he did, and there was no point in trying to change that fact.
"Do you see?" he asked softly. "They already hate me. There is no point in trying to befriend them. Just think... What would they do if they knew about that?" Near allowed himself a small, self-deprecating, and ridiculously unhappy smile.
Optimus returned sad smile and Near hugged the toy close, letting himself imagine that it was his mother, his Heaven, and that the cold, hard plastic of the figurine was her soft, warm flesh.
"I just... I... J-Je t'adore, M-Maman... Je t-te manques..." he whispered as he kissed the toy's head. He missed his Heaven so much that it hurt his chest sometimes - his heart ached and his head hurt and his eyes stung and his throat burned. "J-Je ne devrais pas a-avoir à gauche vous. Je suis d-désolé, Maman... Je s-suis tellement désolé," he managed to force out through the sudden tightness in his throat.
"The Hell are you doing?"
Near looked up at Mello, letting Optimus fall to his lap (his hopes falling with it), and said, "Playing."
Mello scowled at him and growled, "Don't lie to me. I don't care what you to with your toy - that's your business - but don't make-out with it in the middle of the common room. That's just gross."
Near looked at Optimus Prime, whose features were completely back to normal. "What is 'make-out'?" he asked curiously.
Mello stared at him, his mouth slightly ajar, before he recovered a few moments later and asked, "Are you kidding me?!"
"I'm not kidding," Near said impassively. He didn't care if Mello didn't tell him; he didn't need to know, or he already would.
"I'm not explaining the logistics of foreplay to you."
Near shuddered lightly. Sometimes, the tricks liked to play with him before he worked on them. He'd once asked the trick what he was doing and earned a slap for it. The trick had said that it was just a bit of fun, that he could show Near Heaven, and didn't Near did know what foreplay was? Near had wanted to tell the man that he already knew Heaven, had as good as killed her himself, and that he missed her every day, but his mouth had already been occupied and he couldn't speak for the way that he had choked.
"So... Is that toy your...?" Mello started awkwardly.
Near lowered his gaze to Optimus, who looked up at him encouragingly, and smiled as he said, "It's my friend."
Mello quirked an eyebrow and muttered, "Right... Anyway, just... Okay. Right." He turned around and walked away.
Near watched him go, before putting Optimus down on the ground in front of him and sighing. "Do you see now?" he asked softly. "They would never understand, and I... I don't need friends. Friends are weaknesses. I have you, and that's all that I need."
A group of children sat in the corner adjacent to his, talking amongst themselves and pointing at him occasionally.
Near petted Optimus' head as if he was smoothing back hair, just like his mother used to do for him. "They are talking about me, you know. They used to do it at Lucy's..."
"Who is that kid?"
"I don't know, but I'd stay away from him, if I was you... He just sits there, playing with his toys all day. He hardly ever talks, and I've never seen him eat. It's like he's not even human."
"What a freak."
"I... I am a freak," Near pondered quietly. "My only friend is a figurine, who I speak to as if it was my mother, I practically live off soup, I'm an albino, I'm extremely underweight and quite short for my age, I sit strangely, I hardly ever talk... Yes. I am a freak."
Maybe it should have hurt, but Near had been hearing it for most of his life - soon, his voice would blend into the general crowd's until he couldn't tell the difference, and by that stage it wouldn't even matter what he thought.
One of the children who had been talking about him was slowly approaching now. She was obviously hesitant, and kept glancing back at her friends.
The ease with which the girl fit in probably should have stung to Near, who had only ever known affection from Heaven and Lucy, but he didn't mind so much - the promise of Heaven waiting for him forever made it easier to cope with his loneliness.
"Hello," the girl said when she was finally within Near's hearing range. She stood back slightly, as if Near had some kind of terminal illness.
"Hello," Near replied politely.
The girl scuffed her feet, her gaze on the floor - it looked like she was afraid of meeting his eyes. "Umm... My name's Linda. You're Near, right?" she asked, sounding breathless.
Near looked at Linda's feet too, to see if what she was staring at was as fascinating as she was making it out to be. There was nothing particularly notable; in fact, the most interesting thing was that Linda's shoelaces were uneven. Near tightened his hold around Optimus Prime in an effort to prevent himself from reaching out and straightening this stranger's shoelaces.
Linda cleared her throat quietly, and Near realised with a start that he'd been staring. How foolish of him.
"Yes," he replied. He vaguely wondered what she wanted. She didn't want to be his friend (no one ever did), that much was obvious. Was she looking for a favour?
Near was about to open his mouth and tell Linda that he would most certainly not be working on anyone at Wammy's, when Optimus Prime gave him a stern glare.
"Sorry, Maman..." Near whispered, quiet enough that Linda didn't hear it, but just loud enough that it might reach Optimus.
Optimus' glare disappeared just as quickly as it had come, and Near smiled slightly at his toy.
"So... Do you like playing with toys?" Linda asked, her words coming out in a rush. Her voice was high and slightly irritating - Near had a feeling that he was going to get a headache soon.
Near started tugging on his hair lightly, hoping to fend off the headache, and replied, "Yes."
To Near's dismay (though it didn't show, because he didn't want to scare people away), Linda sat down in front of him and started playing with her hair. Near's hands immediately fell away from his.
"I like painting," she said happily.
Near sighed inwardly. He didn't like talking too much to anyone - it was easy to reveal weaknesses when your mouth was too big, and Near knew better than anyone that his weaknesses would only be used against him.
"It's heaps of fun, don't you think?"
With a half-nod to satisfy Linda, Near started playing with Optimus Prime.
Linda continued to ramble on about some nonsense, and Near completely ignored her. He didn't need any friends here, because they brought on potential weakness - but, at the same time, he didn't want to be completely alone, so being courteous was essential.
Suddenly, something cold trickled down the back of Near's shirt, startling him badly, but the shock only showed in the slight widening of his eyes. He'd learned at Lucy's that showing a reaction would only feed the flame that seemed to chase him wherever he went, and if he let how much it hurt him show, it would engulf him entirely.
"Sorry. Accident, I swear," one of the children sneered at him, and Near didn't bother to spare them a second glance. He got up and walked straight to his room - there was no point in even being upset about this, because it wasn't the first that this had happened, nor would it be the last (but it still hurt that people hated him so much) - and into the adjoining bathroom.
He stripped quickly and stepped into the shower, not bothering to notice whether the water was hot or cold. He needed to get rid of the filth.
"Disgusting... Filthy... Sale..." Near scrubbed mindlessly at his skin. "Need to get it off, need to get clean," he chanted quietly, over and over. The dirt from the tricks never seemed to come off (or the dirt that accumulated through the burning hatred that everyone felt for him and that he tried not to return) and the newest impurity would leave its own stain, but it didn't hurt to try and rid himself of it. He didn't like being so dirty - Heaven had always been clean and pure and anything but dirty, and Near wasn't partial to feeling so unworthy of her.
"Need to get it off, need to be clean again, need to make it go away, need to wash the dirt away..."
"Is that you, Near?" Near heard Abel ask from the other side of the cubicle door.
"Yes," Near replied. He took to chanting his mantra in his head, as speaking it out loud would only make him look insane in the eyes of his roommates.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine." Wash away the dirt, get it off, need to be clean again... The cloth that Near was using to wash himself with was burning his skin, but he didn't care. He needed to be clean again, or God would never deem him good enough to join Him and see Heaven again; even worse, Heaven wouldn't want to see him.
"It just seems like a weird time to be having a shower, that's all..." Abel trailed off.
Near refrained from pointing out that if it was a weird time to shower, then why was Abel showering too?
After a few minutes of intense scrubbing, Near felt that he was satisfactory (for now) and got out of the shower, a towel around his waist.
"Jesus! What the hell happened to you, Near?!"
Near quickly covered his chest with his arms. "What do you mean?" he asked, proud of the way that his voice didn't waver.
Abel openly stared at him (and it made Near more than slightly uncomfortable), his eyes wide, as he exclaimed, "Y-You... What the hell happened?!" He pointed at Near's chest.
Near looked down and found that his chest was rubbed raw, and that there were abrasions where his washcloth had broken through his skin. But I'm clean now...
"I'm fine," Near replied flatly. "Thank you for your concern." He went back into the shower cubicle and picked up Optimus Prime (who had been turned around to face the wall while Near had showered), before he walked back into his room.
Thankfully, Mello was not there.
Near hid Optimus Prime under the blankets on his bed - his Maman had never dressed in front of him, so he didn't want to dress in front of her.
He inspected the grazes on his chest more closely and realised that some of them looked quite painful, but he couldn't feel any soreness. He felt warm and safe (maybe he was deluding himself when he thought that this was nearly as good as Heaven) and, while he didn't feel loved, he felt accomplished, but most fulfilling of all was the fact that he felt clean.
He touched one of the largest abrasions lightly and hissed quietly at the small sting. Near considered, with a small smile, that if this was the price is to pay for cleanliness, then he'd do it every day. He trailed his finger lightly across another injury and let his smile widen. I'm clean. Well... relatively.
"What the fuck?!"
Near looked up at Mello, who was staring at him incredulously from the doorway, and asked, "Was there anything that you wanted, Mello?" Near was extremely thankful of the fact that he had a towel around his waist, but he felt disgusting and exposed with his torso uncovered.
Mello closed his eyes and shook his head quickly. "Just... get dressed. Do you know where the hospital wing is?"
Near quickly slipped his pyjamas on (they were far more comfortable than the other stuffy clothing that the people here were trying to get him to wear) and picked Optimus up from under the covers with a quiet request for forgiveness - it had to be quite suffocating under there.
"No, I don't," Near said in response to Mello's question as he sat down on his bed, hugging his toy by way of apology. He didn't know what he'd do if his only friend, his Heaven, was mad at him.
"Get up. I'm going to show you."
Near didn't move. He didn't need to go to the hospital wing (he'd experienced much worse injuries before and had coped with them without so much as a Band-Aid) - what he needed right now was to make sure that Optimus Prime wasn't mad at him.
"I'm fine," he replied.
Mello quirked an eyebrow. "Umm... In case you hadn't noticed," he said sarcastically, "you've got marks all over your chest."
Near absent-mindedly touched one of the injuries through his shirt. It stung, certainly, but there was still no pain. Near wondered if that was normal, before considering that he had never been normal, so it didn't really matter.
He said, "Yes, I know that. They're hardly life-threatening. Medical attention isn't necessary."
While it was true that his life wasn't in danger, Near wasn't so sure that he shouldn't go and see the nurse - the grazes could get infected. Near had had infected wounds on his knees (he'd once made the mistake of wearing shorts to work, and the gravel, glass, and dirt had cut into his knees), and he didn't particularly want to have to go through that again - he'd had to force down tablets every day for a few weeks to make the infection go away.
Mello scowled and grabbed onto Near's arm abruptly (and didn't seem to notice Near's small wince), growling, "To be honest, I only asked because I was being polite. You're going to the hospital wing to get those... things checked out, whether you like it or not."
Near didn't remember standing up, opening his mouth, or the reason behind doing either, but his mouth and legs seemed to know what they were doing. "Does your offer still stand?" he heard himself ask.
Mello gave him an odd look. "What?"
"Your offer to show me around," Near clarified, surprised by how much sense he was unintentionally making. His arm was starting to go numb - Mello's grip was so tight that his circulation was being cut off, and Near feared, for one ridiculous moment, that his arm would fall off.
Mello's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. ...Sure..." he replied in a surprised tone, before loosening his hold on Near's arm slightly and dragging him out of the room.
Near stumbled after his roommate, struggling to keep up, and started curling his hair around the fingers of his free hand.
"Obviously, you already know where the common room is," Mello said conversationally, "and I'm going to assume that you know about the chapel, the pool, the library, and everything else."
Near didn't know whether or not Mello was expecting an answer, so he settled for nodding silently. The few children that were in the hallways stared at them, as if seeing an albino seven year old being dragged along by his roommate (who was somehow managing to eat a chocolate bar and talk at the same time) was odd. Near didn't blame them.
"Was there anywhere in particular that you wanted to see?" Mello asked, sounding for all the world like he hadn't noticed the stares.
Near was torn between sticking to his routine and praying in the chapel (and he knew that he'd regret it later if he ruined his routine - his routine was safe, and he stuck to it to the point where he might be called obsessive), and disregarding his routine to visit the library, out of curiosity. He hadn't brought any of his books with him to Wammy's, apart from his Bible, and he wanted very much to see what the resources here were like. It all came down to what he wanted to see more - a collection of books, or Heaven.
Near doubted that he'd ever really had a choice at all.
"I'd like to see the chapel," Near requested quietly, and he wondered if he'd said or done something strange, because Mello was staring at him like he was odd, an abnormality. Near wanted to shift away from the scrutiny - he knew that he was different, that he would never fit in, that he was a freak, so why did everyone have to keep treating him like he was unaware of it? - because it made him feel like he was waiting for a job, and one of the tricks was deciding whether or not he was worth it, giving Near the chance to walk away if he really wanted to. He'd always hated those moments before a job; the trick would size him up, and he couldn't decide whether he wanted them to stay or leave - was the money really worth the filth that it came wrapped in?
Mello shook his head slightly, as if trying to dismiss his thoughts, before he started walking again (Near realised with a start that they'd stopped), and Near followed him.
The children were still staring at them, so Near fixed his gaze firmly on his sock-clad feet. He'd learned a while ago that having bare feet was dangerous - glass, rocks, old cans, and all sorts of things that resided in alleys could break through even the tough skin of his heels, and, though socks didn't help much, if he stepped lightly, they at least protected his feet from most injuries.
They silently walked through Wammy's House, until, after what Near estimated had been four and a half minutes, they stopped in front of a large door that had the words 'Hospital Wing' emblazoned on them.
Near turned around to look at Mello, before saying, "Mello, I told you that I don't-"
Mello shrugged and opened the doors, before pushing Near inside. "Too bad," he said simply.
The hospital wing was white, sterile, and smelled strongly of cleaning products and medicine. There were beds against the walls on either side of the door, and Mello led Near straight down the middle, to what had to be the nurse's office.
Mello didn't knock on the door, which Near found rude - instead, he opened the door and stepped inside, with absolutely no regard for the nurse's privacy. Near frowned to himself, but let Mello pull him into the room.
The nurse, a kind-looking, middle-aged woman, was sitting at her desk, and looked up when she heard them enter. "Hello, Mello. Who's your friend?" she asked.
Near wanted to reply that he was, most definitely, no one's friend, because no one wanted him, and they had good reason not to - he was a freak; Mello must have agreed, because he hastily let go of Near's arm.
"Near," Mello said.
The nurse smiled gently and said, as if addressing a three year old, "It's very nice to meet you, Near. I'm Ms. Hooper. What would you like, dear?"
Near wanted to like this woman, because she seemed nice and caring, but he was far too wary, and he didn't appreciate how she was belittling him.
When Near didn't say anything, Mello rolled his eyes and answered, "I don't know what he did, but he's got some... things on his chest."
Ms. Hooper kept on smiling at Near, her teeth yellowed with age. "Did you want to take your shirt off for me, Near?"
What could he say - 'No, actually, I don't'?
With a quiet sigh, Near managed to manoeuvre his shirt and Optimus Prime so that nothing below his chest was visible, but he still felt extremely exposed. When the nurse and Mello immediately started staring like he was some kind of science experiment, he ducked his head and tried not to start shaking.
He held Optimus in front of him, as if the toy was his plastic shield, and wished that he was anywhere but here. He wished that Heaven was still alive - she would never have let this happen; he wished that he knew his father - they could've lived together, and Near never would've had to work; he wished that someone would come and take him far, far away from the scrutiny and the pitying, evaluating eyes.
Like usual, his silent pleas went unanswered, and Near wondered, for the umpteenth time, why even God didn't want to hear him.
"Well..." the nurse began, "those look quite painful. What happened?"
Near knew better than to think that she cared - she was only asking because it was her job.
"I walked into the bathroom and found him like this. Fix it," Mello demanded, still staring at Near.
Mello didn't care, either; he had to be doing and saying all of this to save his own neck. Hopefully Abel wouldn't say something, or Roger would, most definitely, come to investigate what had happened, and Near didn't really want to strip for even more people.
The nurse gave Near one of those horrible assessing looks, and said, "I won't ask you for the details this time, dear, but if it happens again, I'm afraid that I won't have a choice."
Near nodded his understanding (and tried not to look too relieved, because that would seem odd), and watched with mild discomfort as Ms. Harper wiped his wounds with an alcohol swab. It stung a lot - so much that Near had to pull on his hair harshly to distract himself from the pain - but he didn't mind. If it made him only a little bit worthier of Heaven, just that little bit cleaner, then Near couldn't protest.
After the nurse had put band-aids on the largest injuries, she smiled again and said, "All done," as if Near was four years old.
Near quickly pulled his shirt back on, wary of Mello's and Ms. Harper's eyes - he felt like they were burning right through his skin and searing him to the bone.
"Now, dear, please be careful, and if you think that those grazes look like they're getting infected, don't hesitate to come back," the nurse said kindly as she ushered them out.
Mello led Near out of the hospital wing without a word.
Near looked down at Optimus Prime, whom he was holding, and whispered, "See? I told you he's arrogant."
Optimus ignored him, and Near felt a pang of annoyance, as well as a hint of anxiety - what had he done to make his only friend so upset with him?
"...I'm sorry..." he muttered quietly, and lowered his gaze to the ground in shame. He shouldn't judge others so easily - he didn't like it when they did it to him, after all; it wasn't fair of him to do it to them.
Mello led him outside, and Near marvelled at the sheer size of the grounds. Near had caught a train to London, once, and he'd been amazed by the Park, in particular; in fact, he'd been sure that it had to be the largest stretch of grass in the world. Apparently, it wasn't. While Lucy's had a small patch of grass and an even smaller pond, the Wammy's grounds looked like they were the size of three Hyde Parks.
Mello pointed to a building on the horizon. "See that building?" he asked. When Near nodded, he continued, "If you go around the side of it, you'll be right in the middle of Winchester. There are some shops and stuff over there; it's where everyone goes in their free period."
Near squinted hard at the building, and, sure enough, he could see lights flashing faintly, marking the presence of shops and cars.
They continued down a flight of stone steps - Near wondered how old everything here was - and came to stop in front of a thick cluster of trees.
"Some kids grown stuff in here, so don't step on anything, unless you want Roger after your arse," Mello said as he walked into the small forest, and Near wondered if Mello was attempting to be humorous, and why he'd bother.
Near followed behind him slowly. As expected, as soon as he was in the forest, the sun seemed to disappear, and Near was left to fumble nervously in the darkness until his eyes adjusted.
There were several different types of trees - oaks, pines, and maples, from what Near could tell (but that could have been wrong - he was no botanist) - and more flowers then Near could count - he recognized roses, daisies, and poppies. Though he liked it in here (it was beautiful), the pollen immediately made Near's nose itch, and he started sneezing and sniffling quietly - he was allergic to it.
Suddenly, Mello asked, "Do you believe in God?"
Near started tugging at his hair and hugged Optimus Prime closer. He'd asked himself that question so many times, but he'd never come up with a half-way decent answer. I want to... but I don't know whether I do or not, or if I'm just tricking myself into thinking that I'm buying into it, because I want to so badly.
He looked down at his hand, his fingers curled around Optimus Prime's figure, and replied, "I believe in Heaven."
Mello gave him that odd, searching look again, and Near felt uncomfortable. Mello wouldn't ask for that, would he? Near subconsciously started noting every gap between the trees, every means of escape that they passed, just in case Mello did ask, because Near couldn't give him anything. He didn't need to work here, Roger had said so, so Near wouldn't do it anymore, even if it meant that Mello would hurt him.
"Well... Here we are," Mello said as they stepped out of the forest, and Near found that it was a completely unnecessary statement, because the tall building in front of them was obviously a chapel.
"How tall do you think it is?" Mello asked amicably, but Near heard the challenge.
'Are you smart enough to guess?' it asked.
Near hummed softly and looked up at the position of the sun in the sky, then at the building's shadow on the ground, before looking the building up and down. He did a few quick calculations in his head - math had always been his best subject - and double-checked his answer, just in case he'd made a mistake.
"Around one hundred and thirty meters," Near stated quietly. He could be wrong - after all, he'd only used this technique once, and he'd never had his work checked by anyone before.
Mello's eyes narrowed as he said, "It's one hundred and thirty-two metres tall. Good guess."
Near replied (and not because he wanted to brag, but because he wanted Mello to have the right facts), "It wasn't a guess. I estimated the -"
Mello's eyes became slits, and Near wondered how he was still able to see. "Good estimate, then," he muttered, before walking into the chapel.
Near stood still for a few moments - had he done something wrong? - and tried to ignore the tightening in his chest (they were alone out here; Mello could do anything to Near and everyone would be none the wiser) as he followed Mello inside.
The outside of the chapel was beautiful - there were intricate carvings on every flat surface, the stained-glass windows casting abstract shadows on them - but the inside was magnificent. There were paintings, windows, or tapestries on every wall that Near could see. There was an aisle, between the rows of benches, which led to the altar, which was backed by statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus. The windows started halfway up the walls, but reached right to the top of the high ceiling and lit up the chapel beautifully. On either side of the altar were two staircases which had to lead to the small balconies over-looking the benches, and Near longed to go up there and see how distorted the grounds would look through the colourful glass of the windows.
"Did you want me to leave?" Mello asked, bringing Near out of his awe-induced stupor.
"If you want," Near replied politely, stepping aside so that an elderly couple could enter the chapel. He frowned. "Roger said that the chapel was a part of Wammy's grounds…" Near thought aloud. He regretted it immediately, as Mello slapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him behind a tapestry.
"Are you insane?!" Mello hissed. "You can't say that name here - do you want us both to be killed?!"
Near hugged Optimus Prime to his chest. Roger had failed to mention that he was potentially in danger at Wammy's, and Near didn't want to die, not yet - he wasn't clean enough to see Heaven yet.
He wanted to tell Mello that no one had informed him of any rules regarding saying 'Wammy's'; only his own name had to be hidden, according to Roger - but Mello's hand was on his mouth, and it would have been unhygienic to speak.
Mello's eyes were bright, despite the darkness that surrounded them. "Answer me!" he growled.
Near's eyes widened when Mello slapped his cheek (was it wrong to think that the warmth dripping down the side of his face, ridding his veins of filth, was the closest to Heaven that Near had ever gotten?). He quickly shook his head, and relaxed minimally when Mello removed his hand from his mouth.
"Roger didn't tell me anything about saying… that," Near murmured.
Mello frowned, procuring a chocolate bar from who-knows-where to take a bite out of it. "Let me fill you in," he said softly, "You that say name, all of us at 'the place' die. 'The man' needs us, so that wouldn't be too great."
Near chewed on his lip lightly. None of it made sense - speaking the name of an orphanage would kill people? Come to think of it, would speaking his own name kill him? Wasn't that a bit far-fetched?
"I don't understand. Who's 'the man'?" Near asked.
"You're kidding me, right?"
Near shook his head.
Mello looked scandalized. "Okay," he whispered, "Do you know who the best detective in the world is?"
Near wondered if this was some twisted kind of joke. "Sherlock Holmes?" he suggested blandly. This wasn't funny - in fact, it was pretty stupid. What did 'the best detectives in the world' have to do with anything?
Mello choked on a piece of his chocolate, and Near didn't know whether or not he was supposed to try and dislodge it, so he stood still and watched Mello try to extricate the chocolate from his throat.
Eventually, after much coughing, choking, and glaring on Mello's part, and blank staring, hair twirling, and toy hugging on Near's part, the offending piece of chocolate flew out of Mello's mouth and onto the floor.
Near shifted away from it slightly. Yuck. That's disgusting.
"You don't know who L is?" Mello spluttered indignantly.
Near had heard about 'L' on the news several times, and thought that the whole charade was rather stupid and pointless. If 'L' really wanted to hide his identity so badly, then why didn't he speak through others and let them take the credit for his work?
As it stood, it was fairly obvious to Near that one of 'L's real names started with the letter 'l', and that 'L's real names weren't common - why else would he choose to be represented by that letter, and that letter alone? Surely, if 'L' had an ordinary name like 'Larry', he could just go by that - there were many 'Larry's in the world.
But this was still assuming that knowing someone's real name could kill them, and Near didn't think that that was possible.
"No, I don't know who he is, but I've heard of the person who hides behind the letter," Near finally replied.
Mello's frown deepened. "You say that like…" he trailed off, before shaking his head lightly. "Look," he continued, "at 'the place', we work toward being 'the man's successor. Roger told you that 'the place' is for bright kids, right?"
Near nodded. This was definitely a lame joke. Why would a group of orphans be candidates for becoming a pathetic detective who hid himself away from the world?
"That's not true, not entirely. It's not for bright kids - it's for the brightest kids from around the world."
Near gazed down at Optimus, who looked just as annoyed as he felt. "This isn't funny," Near said as he turned to leave.
Mello grabbed his arm and hissed, "What's the product of two hundred and thirty-four, and fifty-seven?"
"Thirteen thousand, three hundred, and eight," Near answered instantly, without thinking, before his eyes grew wider and he let Mello pull him back.
He'd always been quite good at mathematics, but did that make him a genius? Surely everyone else was just as apt at math as he was, because he wasn't smart - if he was smart, he would've stayed with Heaven, would've burned with her.
Mello gave him a crooked grin. "Do you see now?" he whispered excitedly, "Do you see? You weren't chosen because you're good - you were chosen because you're the best."
Near shook his head. Mello didn't understand - he wasn't 'the best' at anything. There had to be people out there who were better than him; there had to be.
"This is some kind of stupid joke, isn't it? Congratulations, it worked. I-"
Mello's eyebrows furrowed as he muttered, "You don't believe me, do you?"
Near snorted quietly. He wanted to reply with a sarcastic, 'No, whatever gave you that idea?', but he thought that it was best not to be rude in a House of God.
Mello sighed. "I thought that it was a joke, too, but it's not. Every kid at 'the place' is working toward succeeding 'the man'. Didn't you wonder why there were kids speaking all sorts of languages there? Didn't you wonder why they brought you all the way here from wherever you came from, without asking you to pay so much as one Euro? You're not British, I'm not British, and half of the other kids at 'the place' aren't either - didn't you wonder why that was? Mr," he lowered his voice, "Wammy finds us and brings us to 'the place', where we learn all sorts of things: languages, mathematics, physics, all sorts of sciences, human psychology, sociology, criminology, law, physical education, and the arts. We're ranked one to however many kids there are at 'the place', depending on our grades, and the kid who's number one will probably be chosen as L's successor. I'm number one at the moment, and I worked my arse off to get there. You're smart- you'll make it to the top ten easily, but it takes work to maintain your position, which is why you don't see kids running around and being stupid. This is serious. It's hard work. Do you get it now? This is real."
Near frowned, tugging his arm free of Mello's grip. Why didn't he just give the joke up? It was starting to get on Near's nerves, now. "Joke's over. I'm not a genius. I'm-"
For the third time that day, Mello interrupted him. "What's the capital city of New South Wales, Australia?" he asked.
Near frowned and answered, "Sydney, but that's-"
Mello quirked an eyebrow. "In English, what is a synonym for 'bravery', starting with 'g'?"
Near's frown deepened. "'Gumption', but it's not-"
Mello raised his voice slightly, "Square root of one thousand, four hundred, and sixty, point one six is?"
Near paused for a moment before answering, "Forty-nine point six, but-"
Mello spoke over him again, "A German word commonly used in English, with the literal translation of 'double walker' is?"
Near was starting to get angry, now. The joke was up. What was Mello trying to prove? "It's doppelgänger, and you have no-"
Mello rolled his eyes and grabbed Near's shoulders, stooping slightly so that they were at eye-level. "The Egyptian celebration of the sun is more commonly known as?"
Near could feel Mello's breath on his face - Dear Lord, it smelled like chocolate, and nicotine, and alcohol, and everything that made Near sick - and turned away from it. He sighed softly and answered, "Christmas."
"How many other kids do you think could answer those questions? Do you see now?" Mello asked quietly.
'No,' Near wanted to answer, 'I don't see. I killed Heaven and watched her burn. I worked as a common whore to get by. I left safety stupidly to go to a place that I'd never been before, with a complete stranger. I'm not a genius - I'm a freak.'
Instead, he nodded, and waited for the punch-line. There was no point in making Mello hate him before he had to (and it was certain that he would hate Near - as certain as the sun rising tomorrow), so Near would let Mello have his little joke.
Mello leaned in slightly - and Near could almost taste the chocolate from his breath now - as he whispered, "You're pretty smart, you know..."
Near took in a sharp breath and tried to ignore how close they were and how dark it was and how confined the space behind the tapestry was and how little air seemed to be getting to his lungs, and answered, "So are you." He hoped that he sounded calmer than he felt; when had he ever gained anything other than a few new names and bruises from showing any form of weakness, any emotion since Heaven had died?
Mello hummed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, as if deep in thought, his mouth moving - he might have been singing, but for the fact that Near could hear no sound falling from his lips.
"You..." he finally murmured, "Did you... We could be friends, if you like..." he trailed off hopefully.
Near hesitated for a moment. Oh God, he wanted to agree so badly that it made his chest ache and his breath catch in his throat, but he didn't know what Mello's intentions were, and it would only hurt later if he consented to a friendship now - it would hurt more if he agreed to be friends with Mello and became attached to him, only to have Mello turn around and say that he knew what a freak Near was now, that the friendship was a mistake, and that he hated him, rather than having Mello hate him now; after all, you could fall out of love and friendships could be broken, but who had ever heard of someone falling out of hate?
Near looked down at Optimus Prime, seeking advice, only to find himself being studiously ignored by the toy.
He sighed and thought, He'll only hurt me... I don't need that, before saying softly, "I don't need friends."
It sounded harsh and cold, even to his own ears; it seemed to echo in the small space behind the tapestry, mocking Mello: 'I don't need you.'
Mello recoiled as if Near's words had stung him. His eyes dulled for a long moment, and Near felt his gut clench, before Mello regained his senses and sneered, "Freak," before walking out from behind the tapestry.
When Near heard Mello's footsteps fade away, he slumped to the ground and pressed his forehead to Optimus Prime's. He could deal with sneering, he could deal with taunts, and he could deal with hatred, but the look in Mello's eyes - so betrayed and disappointed and anger and hurt - made him feel sick. He knew what hopelessness felt like; he knew what it felt like to feel so betrayed and disappointed and angry and hurt that it made him physically ill, and the thought that he'd just made someone else feel that way...
Well, Near thought grimly, he has every reason to hate me now... and he would have done anyway. I suppose I just sped up the process a bit.
Optimus Prime frowned in the darkness, and Near could almost feel himself melting from the heat of the sense of absolute hatred that Mello had left behind. In fact, he could feel something trickling down the side of his face, and he reached up to touch it tentatively. His fingers met a small lump covered in congealing fluid - it had to be blood - and he winced quietly, before drawing his hand back.
Near could see the dark liquid staining his fingertips, now, and shuddered - he'd been in this situation far too many times before; broken and bleeding and abandoned in the dark, but it felt different this time. This time, the filth was spewing from his veins, rather than being shot into his body, and it felt every bit as warm and safe as Heaven - surely it wasn't supposed to feel this good.
He brushed his finger lightly over his newest injury again, and wanted to smile from the resulting sting. He repeated the action, and the half-scabbed-over wound re-opened. Near didn't care that it hurt - the filth was in his blood, so he had to get it out of his body to be worthy of Heaven again, and he was doing that now; it felt good.
Optimus Prime's frown faltered for a moment, and Near realised exactly what he was doing, how stupid he was being.
What am I thinking?
Near looked at Optimus with wide eyes and whispered, "M-Maman... J'ai besoin de t-ton aide..."
Optimus' expression didn't change, and Near sighed quietly - what had he done to make even Heaven so upset with him? He'd been trying to get rid of the filth, he'd tried so hard; wasn't it enough?
"J-Je vous e-en prie..." he cried softly, "Tout l-le monde d-déteste-moi... Je n-ne sais p-pas quoi f-faire!"
Optimus still wasn't being forthcoming with advice, and Near started to feel desperate. Had he done the wrong thing in rejecting Mello's friendship? Had he somehow offended Heaven by saying something like that in a church? Was it because he'd spent his time chatting instead of praying that she was so upset with him? Did she think that he wasn't worth her time anymore? Did she even like him still?
It was with these doubts swimming in his mind that Near asked despondently, "A-Aidez-moi, M-Maman..."
When Optimus remained unhelpful, Near let out a small wail and hugged the toy so close that it dug into his ribs hard enough to leave bruises.
"P-Please don't be m-mad at me," he choked out, and he couldn't tell if he was speaking English, French, or some strange mixture of the two. It didn't matter, anyway - Optimus still wasn't helping him, and he wasn't any nearer to knowing what to do and how to fix what he'd done wrong.
He was no closer to Heaven now than he ever had been; in fact, he may have taken a few steps in the wrong direction entirely. Near just wanted everything to go back to the way that it was before the fire - Heaven would love him again and they would be happy together and play and have fun and Near would grow up and marry someone just like his Maman and they could all be happy together and he would be clean.
Optimus Prime was still frowning, and Near didn't know what to do; he didn't know how to make it all better, and all of his efforts just seemed to be making things worse.
With a quiet sob, Near hugged his toy and his knee close, and started crying hopelessly.
Je vous en prie, Maman... J'ai besoin de toi...
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Je t'adore, Maman. Je te manques - I love you, Mom. I miss you
Je ne devrais pas avoir à gauche vous. Je suis désolé, Maman - I shouldn't have left you. I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry
Sale - Dirty
J'ai besoin de ton aide. Je vous en prie... Tout le monde déteste-moi... Je ne sais pas quoi faire! Aidez-moi, Maman - I need your help. Please... Everybody hates me... I don't know what to do! Help me, Mom... (I'm not too sure about how accurate this translation actually is - not that any of my other ones are particularly accurate... I used 'je vous en prie' here, instead of 's'il vous plâit', because, apparently, 'je vous en prie' is more akin to begging/grovelling... I don't know how reliable my source is, though, so...)
Je vous en prie, Maman... J'ai besoin de toi - Please, Mom... I need you
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(TAT) Told you that it was rubbish.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed - it means a lot to me that you're taking the time to read through this rubbish and let me know what you think of it (:
So please, readers, review, even if it's only to tell me how bad my French is, or how much you dislike this FanFiction.
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Sorry, guys! FF. net screwed around with the formatting (Italics, in particular), and deleted random words and full-stops. I don't know what happened, but... Well, I think that I've fixed it. I apologise in advance for any time that this may happen again in the future.
In future chapters, if there's random sections of Italics that are clearly not thoughts/flashbacks, please just pretend that the Italics do no exist xD