You opened your eyes. You were in your room, in the hideout. On the table next to you were the four photos you had taken with you in your dream last night.
Within three seconds you were out of bed, running down the hallway. There was a man holding a basket of laundry coming the opposite way. He stopped dead.
"Where's Matt?" you asked, panicked. It had all been a dream, right? A very long and sad dream.
He ignored your question. "You slept for a few hours, huh, Hail?"
Your voice was shaky. "Where is he?"
He stared at you, and you realized that he wouldn't answer. A few tears slid down your cheeks and your chest tightened painfully. He patted your back in an attempt to comfort you, but your legs gave out and you slid to the floor. He picked you up and brought you back to your room.
He put you under the blankets. "Sleep a little more." He left and came back, handing you a tissue box that was almost completely empty.
"We all miss them," he explained with a blush.
He left you to be alone, and you reluctantly gave into sleep again.
--
The next day, nine days after the accident, you finally ate again. You were starving. You ate bread only, however, because it made you feel guilty. You felt like if you ate, if you took care of yourself, you were betraying Matt.
The house was so dead. No one talked or watched television. There were no sound effects coming from Matt's room. There was no smell of chocolate or smoke.
You walked like a zombie to Matt's room. His television was on, Kingdom Hearts on pause. On his bed, you found a crumpled piece of paper and a neat one.
The crumpled one made you cry. You didn't even open it. You just held it. It was the one with the childish wedding plans. You fell to your knees again, more tears falling.
The thud brought someone running, but they backed out of the room slowly and closed the door when they saw you hadn't fainted. You crushed the crumpled paper in your hands. You felt like if you could hold onto it, you could hold onto Matt. You put the crumpled paper back on the bed and buried your head in your hands.
Everything you had wanted and gained was gone in an instant. Matt's life was taken away. Mello's, too. Life didn't seem worth living, and you then considered suicide.
If you left, you'd be with Matt again, right? Then you heard a whisper. It wasn't a real whisper. You knew it was in your head, but you didn't know where it came from. It didn't speak words, it was just a thought that came and left in an instant. It was a feeling of calm with a soul behind it. Was it Matt? No, it was probably your imagination.
You lifted your tear stained face and took the second piece of paper. For a long while, you just stared at the handwriting you remembered so well.
"Dear Hail,
Do you know that every time Mello has asked me to do something dangerous, I always write you a new letter, hoping that you'd somehow find it in case I didn't come back?
Now that you're with me, I want to make sure that I write down absolutely everything I want to tell you.
Saying "I love you" doesn't cut it. That's not what I would tell you if I had only a few moments left to live. I would tell you that you were always my world. To me, you didn't have any faults. To me, you weren't chubby or awkward. To me, you were someone who I thought I would spend forever and a day with. I never, ever would chose to leave you. If it was up to me, I would have stayed home. But Kira must be stopped. I don't even have to explain to you how true this is. My life is a small price to pay. Even your happiness, Hail. I would sacrifice it to save the world, to be the hero I always play. However, I would spare you all of this hurt if it were in my power.
If life seems too hard to go on, please remember that I sacrificed my life for the greater good. Don't you dare just give up because you can't hold on anymore. I'm not your fingers, Hail. For four years, you lived without me, and you'll do the same now that I'm gone. Without me, your heart will still beat, the world will still turn, and the good guys will still beat the bad guys. You might not be able to get up at first. You might have to rest your body because of the bad fall, and that's natural. People die every day. Every day, there is someone like you, either just falling or finally getting up again. Other people have gone through your pain, and there will be more to follow. If you think you're alone, then you're wrong. Everyone in the hideout will stay with you. And Mello's there, unless he's gone, too.
Bury me in the back of your mind. It won't hurt me, I promise. Don't be a martyr. That was my job. Hehe, I guess this isn't the time to joke. If you can forgive me, please do. If you can't, I understand. Thank you for marrying me.
I know that this doesn't sound like me, but when I might not come home, there isn't time to not be as blunt as possible. I hope you see how I think of you. I know how you think of me. I saw it in your eyes at the altar.
Love,
Matt"
Under where the paper had been was his wedding ring, but you didn't notice it. The tears poured like a faucet that wouldn't shut off. You put the letter down on the floor and curled up, trying to calm yourself. Your incessant sobs got you lightheaded, but nobody came in to help you. There was nothing anyone could do for you. Not unless they could bring Matt back.
Your eyes drifted up to the television. The colors on it were blurred from tears and melted into each other. The volume must have been all way down. Had he done that on purpose? Knowing that if he didn't come home, the music would be too much, but not having the heart to save the game and turn it off because of the hassle it was to turn it back on if he did survive.
You lowered your head again and sobbed more. They were a little less intense now. You were still a little dizzy, but it wasn't as bad.
When the tears stopped, you stood and caught a glance of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were surrounded by black bags, and your body had lost weight from the week without food. You were still chubby, even with the drastic weight loss, which kinda pissed you off. Then you sighed and a few more tears fell.
You ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, the pain of your loss flowing out of you.
--
That night, you decided to leave. You had to get out. Like in your dream, you grabbed only the four pictures. You pulled them out of their frames and placed them in your pocketbook. Then you grabbed the two notes and Matt's wedding ring. You tried to put it on over yours, but it didn't fit. You frowned and placed it on your pinky. It fit snugly there and you smiled for the first time in almost two weeks.
You left your room. Unlike in your dream, there was someone waiting.
"Good to see you well, Hail. Going out on a midnight shopping spree?" the man asked.
You took a deep breath and calmed yourself before you killed him. "Possibly."
"Well, I'll come with you."
"Why can't I go alone?"
"Orders."
"Your orders were to protect me, not suffocate me."
The man shrugged. "We weren't given specifics."
Damn specifics! "Let me go," you ordered.
The man sighed with irritation. "Can't." He blocked the door. You frowned and went back to your room.
--
It's not a long way down. Not really, you thought as you stared out your window. You took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to Matt. You leaped and caught onto a tree branch frantically. Your fingers locked around it as your body swung freely. In a split second, you saw the image of Matt and Mello swinging on the branch next to you. You saw them being forced to let go, as if someone was stepping on their fingers.
Instead of letting go, you climbed up, almost falling off three times. Eventually, you made it onto the top of the branch. Thank you, swimming class, you thought, looking at your flimsy, but existent arm muscles. You climbed down. Three branches from the lowest branch, you missed your step and fell down, hitting one of them and thumping to the ground.
"Shit," you whispered to yourself. You rested on your back, in too much pain to stand up yet.
This was ironically like Matt's letter. Thinking of his letter gave you strength. As if invisible hands grabbed you and pulled you up, you were on your feet again. It still hurt, but you didn't have time to just sit there.
"Hail!" The watchman was at your window. He had obviously heard the fall and woken the whole house. His head disappeared and you heard footsteps. You couldn't run. You weren't ever fast, so you couldn't outrun them, especially in your state. You ran to a shadow and held your breath as they rushed passed you, too nervous to be thorough.
--
You were on your way. Bruises formed from the fall but stopped hurting. You thought of Near, but you couldn't stand seeing a Wammy's friend. It would hurt too much. You were just escaping from the pain, and you weren't going to go looking for it again.
You didn't sleep that night. You walked in the shadows, avoiding the headlights of every car, because every car was looking for you. No one else was out at this time of night except those who wanted to cage you up forever because of "orders". Damn, they took things literally.
--
The sun came up, and you didn't know where you were. You had lost your way long ago, and now all you could do was figure out a way to survive.
--
For the next two weeks, you lived on the streets. Then, you got a job at a law firm as a secretary. The lawyer there liked you a lot. His name was Mr. Smith, and he was a man in his late forties, his hair turning gray and thinning in the middle. He had a chubby mid section and thin legs and walked a little like a penguin. He was only about five feet tall, if that. His eyes were huge behind his glasses and were a light blue that looked nice with his light brown hair. He always wore a brown suit with a brown and blue striped tie. He offered to put you through college if you would work with him, but you insured him you already had the education from your orphanage.
"You didn't go to Wammy's, did you?" Mr.Smith asked.
You winced at the word. "Yes, I did."
He brightened and laughed. "Why didn't you say so?"
You looked down, too close to tears to answer him.
He noticed this and nodded. "If you want to work with me, I'd be proud to have you here."
--
Within two weeks, you had your own apartment and making a living as an attorney.
You had the day off, which was wonderful. You sat on a used couch your boss had given you. You weren't making so much that you could furnish your house just yet. Most of the furniture was used. Your apartment was being paid for by your boss, too. Anything for a Whammy child, you supposed.
It was a cool morning with gray skies. You were glad you could stay home on such a cruddy day. You had a plate of scrambled eggs on your lap for breakfast and went to take a bite.
...?
Your stomach turned. You ran to the bathroom and threw your guts up for the first time since that day in the hideout a few weeks back. After a while, your stomach settled and you stood up.
--
This continued every single morning, around certain foods, and at night once in a while.
"When are you due?" your boss asked one day while he was signing papers.
You looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
He didn't look up from his papers. "You know, you can't fool me. I have two kids of my own. I saw my wife go through this twice. You can't fool me."
Your eyes bulged. Kids?
Mr. Smith knew all about your husband. You told him the whole story. As a lawyer, he was obviously not a Kira fan. With no bad guys, how could he make money? So, you told him the whole story. He had reacted awkwardly when you had started crying, but he was very fatherly in the way that he gave you a hug and apologized for your loss.
"I," you laughed, "I'm not pregnant, Mr. Smith." You didn't add that you had only been with Matt, because that would have been too awkward.
"Maybe you should check it out. Go on, kid. You get a break. There's a drug store down the street."
--
Shit.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
That's the only word that went through your mind when the little piss stick turned a light blue with a smiley face on top. Were you supposed to be happy about this?
Even though you were a lawyer, you had only been working for a few weeks. You couldn't support yourself. How could you support a child?
--
"Positive?" Mr Smith asked when you returned to work.
You nodded lifelessly.
He took a deep breath. "Your husband's?"
You nodded again.
He smiled. "See? He is always with you."