Author's Note: I'm on a roll today, dang. Everyone writes about Mello visiting Near when no one else is around, but what about Matt?
Duck Crossing
The cherry red Chevy sedan had been sitting outside of headquarters for three hours, and everyone was worried but Near. He'd asked if it had moved every hour, but it was impossible to tell if he was pleased or disappointed every time Lester said, "no." Near only huddled by his pool with a screwdriver, an RC remote, and a tiny platoon of little mechanized rubber ducks—they were one of the stranger implements Near had brought with him from Whammy House, least of all because they appeared hand-made. Each duck was powered by two double-a batteries which were suspended in the middle of the duck, protected from the water by the sealed rubber bottom. The back of each popped off for easy battery replacement, but recently a number had come loose.
"Near, someone is getting out of the car...it's not Mello." Lester reported from the parking lot.
"Put them on screen," Near requested without looking up from the delicate work of re-attaching the hinge to the back of one of his ducks. The television screens all around him filled with the image a young man with dark auburn hair and goggles, wearing a plain black and white stripped shirt and very tight jeans. An unlit cigarette rested on chapped, bitten lips. Near smiled, telling Lester dispassionately, "It's alright, let him in."
The smile was gone by the time heavy footfalls carried their way down the corridor into Near's inner sanctum. He dropped a minuscule screw unexpectedly and was rooting around under Giovanni's chair when Mael Jeevas entered the room.
"Fucking Christ, you still have those?" Matt blurted, recognizing the ducks as his own ten year old handiwork. Near didn't react.
"They were a parting gift, as I recall," Near replied, ooching as low to the tile floor as he could manage before straightening again, the screw pinched lightly between two fingers. "Not exactly the safest thing for an eight year old."
Matt chuckled, "So look, I know Mello covered his ass when he left, I just came to make sure--
Quaaacckk! Thump.
Near drove one of the ducks into Matt's boot. He was tempted to kick it away, but instead picked it up and removed his goggles, amazed that Near had taken such good care of them. The rubber in the bottom of the one he held had been patched any number of times, and upon inspection of the internal wiring, it was like new, little copper strands gleaming and tiny engine continuing to whirr away into happy oblivion.
"Built to last, huh?" Matt said suddenly, putting the duck back down, his demeanor no longer quite as gruff. He watched it zoom back to where Near crouched on the floor, and while Near never looked at Matt, he was somehow aware that he had the boy's undivided attention.
"No, not quite, but Baxter here is the best of the lot," Near pointed to another one of the ducks—they all looked the same to Matt-- "Nate is the runt of the paddling. Repairs every other week since you made him."
Matt hated when someone pointed out his mistakes. He picked 'Nate' up and popped the back off, saying belligerently, "I didn't come here to play doctor. I just need to know if you kept any relevant info on me back at the House. Mello doesn't want me with him if I'm walking Kira bait—hand me that screwdriver, will you?"
Near crawled over to Matt, carrying the screwdriver and a few other tools bundled in his shirt.
"You misunderstand. Mello purposefully left a photo of himself behind," Near said unconcernedly. "Your records were destroyed as soon as soon as you left."
Matt grunted around his cigarette, "Sounds like something Mello would do—pliers, and a soldering gun?"
"On the counter."
The whole of the operation took less than fifteen minutes. Near was glad he'd told the others to wait outside. He wasn't sure why, but it was something about how this is how the two boys had always interacted. Behind closed doors. There was no need to ask silly questions like, "Does Mello know you're here?" not only because Near was sure he didn't and also sure that it wouldn't change anything. He was convinced Mello knew anyway—all the way from their school days. Matt finished with his work and asked for two batteries. Near handed them to him, and Matt snapped them briskly into place. He screwed the hinge for the back on and placed it on the ground.
"Give it a try." It was a command but given in the only way Matt could give one—slowly and with great care, as if the words were foreign to him. Near picked up the remote, flipped a switch, and the duck Nate rocketed towards the wading pool in the middle of the room, it's plastic beak bobbing.
"More than satisfactory," Near appraised, but he looked sad to Matt for some reason, as if the duck was only the tip of the iceberg. Something else was broken, Matt was sure but he couldn't tell what. He stood and strode to the door.
"So you got nothing on me, are you sure?" he wasn't about to leave without at least salvaging some of his original intentions.
"Nothing, Matt."
"Good. I'll see you around then."
Near was amazed at how final and resolute the words sounded, but went back to testing Nate once again. He needed to make sure. Because if Matt was that determined to fix all of his old mistakes than he better start paying very close attention to Mello...it was only a matter of time now, after all.