Happy birthday to me...
Mello took a long shot from the bottle he had in hand, his throat numb to the burning after months, years of practice.
He had long cut the bad habit, cash didn't really allow it lately, but today was an exception. There wasn't much to celebrate than one more year in solitude. But the flashing ad of that new game being released these days, on the giant screen of Times Square, had brought back a memory he'd have preferred to keep buried where it was. It was that viciously painful souvenir that had walked his feet into the cheap 24/7 tiny store just under his apartment, although he had resisted all the way from Times Square to the street he lived in. But today, he obviously wouldn't be able to stay away from the liquor.
There was at least one criteria he wouldn't derogate to, so as there was no vodka that could actually be called vodka, he was now getting shitfaced on cheap whiskey. It didn't even have a taste other than the one of a future much awaited drunken state. Oblivion, at least for a few hours. Maybe the pain would be gone then. Maybe hewould be gone then.
Why he hadn't died by Takada's hand, he hadn't been sure at first, but Near's experiments had set light on the fact that you indeed have to have the face of the person you want to kill in mind while writing their name in the Death Note. And Mello's tortuous scar was one hard thing to remember in detail. Imagining it wasn't obviously enough, you had to picture the various lines and scrunches and everything perfectly.
Mello did have a heart attack, but it hadn't killed him in the end. Not that he didn't regret it. It would have been so much easier since he was too much of a coward to kill himself now.
Mello wasn't exactly living carefully, crossing the street only when allowed by the 'walk' signal or avoiding the creepiest areas of the city. He actually bordered on suicidal by his everyday choices. But death really didn't seem to want him, no matter how stupid he acted.
Depositing the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of him, a bit too loudly for his already noise-sensitive brain, Mello put the tears running on his cheeks on account of the headache his state would induce. But even drunk, he wouldn't fool himself so easily. He had no headache, and this fucking pain was even worse now that he couldn't reason himself anymore, now that his dark matter was somehow sizzled by alcohol.
Fuck. And I feel sick...
He only had time to stagger to the bathroom that his stomach decided it was time to evacuate the intrusive liquid.
Mello even mentally noted how long he knelt there, on the tiled floor, unable to stand up after throwing up all he could and more. The clock just seemed to tick in rhythm with his breathing, and his eyes stared at every minute passing by. This clock was so ugly.
It took exactly one hour and sixteen minutes for Mello to leave the cold ceramic. The taste on his tongue was awful.
Brushing his teeth, he looked at himself in the mirror.
Why am I still alive?
His hair was self cut, just like he had always done. Shortening the bangs when it came too much into his eyes, or simply cutting the end of a ponytail when the back was too long and he got tired of detangling it. It wasn't really well done, but who cared?
He rinsed his mouth.
It was Matt who used to...
The sobs shook him like they had never done. He hadn't allowed himself to cry, or even think about the past. He knew he couldn't take it. But he obviously would have to now, because the feelings wouldn't leave.
Regret, guilt, shame... He didn't understand why they had shot Matt, it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
Damn, Matt had said it would be ok! It was always ok when he said it!
And he had done his best to protect Matt!
He had the fast car, but they still could corner him, he had the bulletproof vest, but still they managed to shoot a non protected area of his body... and Lidner, why order her men to shoot at sight?
Mello was aware of the fact that it wouldn't bring his best friend back. But all he could think about right now was that he should have dwelt on this long ago, when Lidner was still easy to locate. He didn't need to know if he was right to think that she had gotten Matt shot on purpose or not, all he knew was that it gave him something to focus on other than pain.
Psychology classes had taught him well enough that as long as your mind is busy with revenge, it won't feel the pain. It would be back after that, but right now Mello needed to kill the pain. And Lidner.
It was surprisingly easy to slide back into his Mafia boss attire, get all his connections and means back. Ross hadn't forgotten, and neither did the rest of the men in the hideout, where Mello went once located.
But this time he wouldn't cope with the old boss. One bullet and hewas the boss. No argument, no retaliation, no counter attack. Just fear, because the sick bastard was back, more cruel than before.
First things first, he had his men set on Lidner's tracks.
Five months later, he was still clueless. Eight months, and he felt like he hadn't even left the departure line. Were they all dead after all? Damn, that would be quite the luck to be the only one alive when I so want to be dead...
But L, the new L, was still in action as the greatest detective in the world, so it was unlikely that Near was dead. No one else could be hiding behind the letter.
It was early September, and the weather getting colder reminded Mello of the Indian Summer in California, that Matt liked so much.
I'm not doing this much longer. It's leading nowhere... and revenge, what for? It won't bring him back... I won't make it to my next birthday, it's useless...
It seemed quite strange to him to see Near, Lidner, and some other men whose faces he knew, on those pictures that one of his men brought back at the end of October. Mello had been right to think that the bitch was still guarding the sheep. The pictures were a bit blurry, and the faces far in the distance, the man had only been able to catch them on film as they exited cars to enter a building, and the bodyguards around had made it quite difficult since they were always in the way.
It wasn't surprising that they had been hard to find, even with the means he had, L needed protection and privacy after all. But many details made it look like they were hiding from him personally, specifically erasing their tracks and shielding themselves from the Mafia.
But it was the last of Mello's concerns. He wouldn't analyse the albino brat, he wasn't trying to beat him this time. Near wasn't even his target, even if killing him would be an added bonus, just because if he hadn't hired Lidner in the first place, maybe...
Mello shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. No time for crying, no time...
The blond perfectly knew that if Near was located, Near knew he was located. And who had located him as well.
It was only a matter of hours now, the hours it would take to travel to L's headquarters. Winchester, really?
Mello huffed at the thought that Near could have been nostalgic. Not that he would concede any possible feeling to the sheep.
It still was some kind of relief to discover that Near hadn't established his office in the old orphanage. Mello didn't want to see the building, he didn't want the memories associated with it back. He just wanted to shoot his target at sight, then himself.
But, and part of him expected it, the place that once was Near's headquarters was empty by the time he got there.
Now that was weird. Near was protected enough to survive WWIII so why runaway?
Unless he has something to hide...
As much as Mello's ego was infatuated with the desire of Near being afraid of him, the blond knew it wasn't that. He would be proud to believe that Near knew he didn't stand a chance, but ego or not, Mello was smart enough not to get worked up with that kind of antics.
But curiosity was slowly getting the best of him, along with the feeling of revenge growing along with Near's condescending tone coming back to Mello's mind.
Seething, the blond buried himself in building the plan that would be Near's demise. And Lidner. She was the reason why he had began all of this, after all, even if, useless to lie to himself, it was all about beating Near again...
Mello hadn't kept the promise he had made to himself, and was still alive after December 13th was long gone.
He had it. He had the plan that would let him inside of Near's den.
He had tried everything. From infiltrating one of his men inside of Near's team to taking a chance head-on at getting to the bastard as he followed his every move, nothing had worked. Near was acting rather differently than he used to and it was telling Mello that he had to reach him at all costs. Near couldn't be playing just for the sake of fooling Mello, L didn't have time for that, and even if Near was acting strange lately, he wasn't one for mind games. He liked spitting the truth at your face with fake detachment too much.
The plan was easy, really. Well, easy to come up with at least. As protected as he was, Near and his underlings needed to fulfil their basic needs. Taking the place of one of the delivery men was out of the question, they weren't let in. No one was. There was a first airlock where things entered, brought by a first team, and those could never go further than this area. A second wave of carriers would bring everything inside a second airlock once the first men were surely gone and the doors secured. There, a third group of men would check the delivery only once the second bunch was outside and accesses closed. Everything was opened, tested, certified safe, and only then could it be stashed away inside the headquarters.
Basically, Mello had to reach area two. From there, weapons would talk. That wasn't the most amazing plan in the world, but after checking if there was a way to dig under the building, or arrive by the roof, or enter there at gunpoint, the blond had to resolve to something he had inwardly qualified as 'cheap'.
Near wouldn't have him shot at sight. If the brat had wanted him dead, he would have been able to send him to the grave long ago, Mello wouldn't even have opposed at some point.
But that didn't mean he'd let him in. The numerous trials had at least cleared one point: Near never gave the order to kill, but they had the right to hurt, and Mello took enough bullets to acknowledge that. Actually, Mello suspected that Near didn't know that he had planned to kill him and Lidner, otherwise things would be different and the snipers would have shot him straight away.
Near probably thought it was something like when Mello had wanted to retrieve his picture, nothing more. Except this time he didn't seem inclined to meet him.