Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for full disclaimer.
Chapter 2: Blood Contract
The successors had known each other for almost 20 years, and had been privileged with the chance to watch one another rise to greatness, to learn one another as one knows their own shadow, and fight with passion that only rivals can know. Near was, and had always been the single source of steady ground among a world seeming to be constantly overtaken by earthquakes. The years and the attention to detail Mello had paid to him allowed him a window to see beneath that veneer, to where each of Near's own cracks lay; such a knowledge becoming enough to prove that the younger was human, and not some robotic unstoppable force.
But now… Mello wished someone had told him, all those years ago, that when he unconsciously signed up to be tied to someone like Near, the catch written into the fine print was having to bear the burden of being the only true sole witness to one another's inevitable downfall. Near had watched him fall, and now he supposed it should be righteous justice for the tables to turn.
But that wasn't how it felt… This wasn't justice. This was nothing short of the embodiment of cruelty pulling Near's strings.
Mello wasn't about to let that show, though. He was more professional than that. Firm and steady azure orbs seemed to blend together with wary gray into some unspeakable amalgamation of both figures searching for some stable footing among such an inverse world. How many times would Mello have to remind himself that he never imagined he'd ever see Near reduced to such a state by his own hand? Perhaps just enough for it to finally register as his new reality.
He finally released Near's chin from his hold, lazily sliding back to rest with his hands on the floor, supporting the weight of his upper body; all the while never letting his stare break from the younger. After all, his old competitive nature was no so easily broken as through a shift in their dynamics and an overturn world.
"I'll take your silence to be your agreement to the terms, then as otherwise someone as opinionated as you would surely voice any complaints." He said. "But just to clarify the point: I will pull you out of this rock bottom of yours, and in exchange you will do whatever I say to get you there. Got it?" A smirk cracked his features as he watched Near's jaw lock tight, as though it was his last defense against speaking out.
Such a persistent silence worked to Mello's benefit in this moment, but it would be a lie to say it didn't likewise make him infinitely curious to bear witness to. Near was always the first take any opportunity to shoot his plans down. So what could possibly be holding him back to such an extent? What was the importance of keeping such a vice grip over his own silence? Could it really be so simple as him trying to childishly avoid having to answer questions, or own up to the state he'd put the institution in?
Whatever this was, it was nothing short of irritating and Mello wanted nothing more than to tear this veil of his to pieces.
Near finally broke their locked gazes in order to look off to the side, towards the scattered debris of his protective wall. Those abyssal, sunken eyes suddenly appeared utterly unseeing to either Mello's presence or the rest of the world around him. It betrayed the mistrust laden within his heart that said Mello wasn't worth recognition; that Mello couldn't hope to understand what was happening to him.
It was as though he was telling the blonde that he could no longer rely on their shared past as a means to connect them anymore. Their realities had drifted so far apart, and had become so much more complex than simple rivalry that he could never even fathom all that plagued him now.
And suddenly, Mello felt a part of his heart grip within the confines of his chest… afraid to admit that maybe Near was right. After all, he always had been in the past.
Near shifted, his gaze remaining pointed away from him as his arm rose up to twirl a strand of his hair; as he did so the loose sleeve of his white shirt fell away and in that moment Mello's attentive blue eyes had nowhere else to fall but the dull white bandage covering Near's wrist.
At once his heart plummeted into the infinitesimal void of his center and a wave of nausea crashed over him. Every ounce of his bravado melted off of him and slipped down between the cracks in the old dark wood floorboards.
It was the feeling of reality finally taking hold of him. Roger's words and everything he'd seen to that point were mere specks of dust in comparison to how harshly those bandages burned their way into his retinas. They alone seemed to hold all the weight of the entire world, now fractured under Near's buckled hold. It wasn't until that frozen moment in time that Mello realized… maybe Mello's own world had become fractured by his actions, too. This was all becoming too much to handle.
"I'll be back." His voice came out strained as he fought back the stutter that was quickly ascending to the surface as he stood up. Gray orbs landed on him again, no doubt hearing the sudden unease in his tone, but Mello couldn't bring himself to pause even long enough to register what lay within the look. "Don't go anywhere." As though he realistically would, and they both knew it, yet still he felt the need to say it. Anything to kill the heavy silence.
He moved across the room, out through the door and into what seemed to be the real world, again; a world that didn't know, or at least recognize the one-sided war being waged on the other side of that wall.
The moment the latch clicked back into place Mello's entire body froze into a rigid statue, one hand remaining on the cold metal doorknob as though needing a link back to remind him that what he'd just experienced wasn't just a hallucination. His free hand took hold of his face as his head hung limp on his shoulders towards the floor. Silken blonde hair obscured any expression like a proper shield, but it did little to curb the weight that had taken residence within his chest.
That single sight was the final hammer against his contrived glass reality.
'What the hell am I supposed to do?' Sure, he could take control, he could command Near and force him to do anything he wanted him to. He'd known he'd had that ability over him since they were children. But this was different! What good would pure unbridled force do now? Would it pull Near out of his internal inferno, and even if it somehow did, would it ever actually fix anything, or would it merely be a bandage over a leaking crack in a dam?
Not only that, but how the hell could he be expected to pull Near from a hell like this when he himself had never actually learned how to entirely tame his own demons? Then again… advice was a form of recycled nostalgia.
'Stop.' He commanded, bringing the nauseating swirl of thoughts to a temporary halt. 'Don't do this right now.' His tone was berating, but held an underlying sound of defeat along with it. Nothing about this situation was okay. It wasn't right, let alone fair to be the one tasked with bearing witness to these moments, let alone be contracted as the one best suited to fix the situation.
This moment… this weight lying upon his chest was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was like the moment a child comes to realize that their parents aren't the superheroes you'd always thought they were; that they walk, talk and hurt just like everyone else does. It was the crushing feeling of childhood illusion ending.
'This isn't about me.' He thought as his head slowly raised again, his gaze unfocused on his open palm, 'This is about fixing whatever problem is going on here; I can deal with my own issues later.' He felt lost in the sea of this new reality, finding himself wondering if perhaps this had always been reality and somehow he had just failed to notice it. Either way, the logical side of him dictated that regardless it didn't change the current objective.
But if Mello was to have any hope of getting them anywhere beyond their current position then he knew he couldn't be expected to work with the broken image that Roger had all but seemed to have abandoned in the attic of the institution. He'd first have to reinstate the image of power, to build it back to the memory that he knew must lay dormant within the younger. As best he could he would need to turn back the clock, back to the end of the Kira case, and start entirely over again.
It was improbable for Roger to merely allow him to continue slipping down into this hole with only his memories to grasp onto for safety. Near needed to be reminded of who he was raised to be, what he was capable of, and ultimately the necessity of L within the rest of the world.
It wasn't necessarily a sure foundation to be starting from, but it was a start, and at the end of the day anything was better than where they were all stuck at now. He couldn't entirely be sure what he was going to do, but in the very least he knew exactly how to begin spinning the clock backwards.
-:-
"Come on." Mello said simply as he returned to the confines of the outlying room, sparring not a moment of hesitation as he crossed the space as though it belonged to him, haphazardly pushing the prostrated cards out of the way to create an empty space near the middle of the room.
Near remained in his same position, hardly pausing from where he had begun to construct a new, smaller card wall around himself, rather than around the room itself. His world was becoming encroached upon, and as such his line of defense was quickly shrinking further and further downwards, and Mello wondered to himself what might happen if Near's walls were encroached upon too far. What would he do? What would he become?
He wouldn't let himself think about it, however, as though in fear of what he may do if given even the slightest chance to experiment with such a question. Instead he crossed the space, over to an abandoned desk where various papers had been scattered across the top.
He dragged the wooden chair sitting with it over to the vacant spot he'd created, afterwards going over to the dresser and pulling open the drawers. "Go sit in that chair." He commanded as he rummaged through the detective's belongings with little care to personal space. As far as he was concerned, Near had given up having any sense of privacy the moment he'd taken his own mortality into his hands.
Finally he found what he was looking for, pulling three large white towels out of the very bottom drawer; laying two of them out on the ground on around the chair. Yet Near made not a single move to get up, let alone even acknowledge he'd heard the blonde. Mello shot him a glare, "Come on. We're starting this work now."
Still Near's only movements were those contributing to the construction of his personal wall.
Mello released a heavy exhale in frustration. God forbid Near ever make things simple for him… He moved over to the younger, kneeling before him to place them both on the same level, sparing not a single moment's worth of consideration as he reached out to push the wall over. Finally those gray eyes moved up to him, peering between long white strands with just a hint of a glare within them. "You're getting a haircut." Mello stated.
Finally his words elicited a response, slate eyes shifting to defensive confusion. But Mello's own remained firm. If they were to make any progress then this was a necessity, and not something he was willing to back down from.
He'd known Near for the better part of his entire life, and the knowledge which came along with that allowed him to read the subtle messages lingering in the shadows of his actions. The repetitive twirling motions Near made with his hair were a conscious move to try and steady his thoughts; to enhance them and make each mental formation translate clearer as they raced through his head with speed often too great to otherwise hold onto. Each motion was like adjusting the metal of an antenna; it was the only means he had to keep from being swept away by the natural currents of his own mind. The longer he let his hair grow, the more material Near had to work with, and subsequently it became that much easier for him to lose himself in such sweeping currents, in his own memories, in anything other than the outside reality.
But that wasn't who Near was. He didn't need to use his vices to the degree that finally he all but forgot himself entirely.
The detective regarded him briefly momentarily before his body unconsciously pulled further away from him as though even just the added space would help his objection. Again he seemed to emit an air around him his stoic disposition which seemed to argue that Mello couldn't just do as he wanted; that he didn't understand what he was going through, and thus why he needed his hair as long as it he'd allowed it to be.
And maybe Mello didn't understand all of this. But right now he wasn't willing to fight that battle. That wasn't important. What was important was focusing on what was playing out before him and working with what Near provided for him. "Look," He finally said, "You either go sit over there, or I shave every last inch of your hair off until you're bald. Your choice."
Near's expression remained entirely unfazed, as though the older successor's words had become little more than a dull hiss among the otherwise plaguing thoughts running through him. How exactly could he get to those afflictions? How could Mello get Near to actually tell him what had happened, and what exactly was going on in his head? …Did he even possess the ability to bridge what had become such a wide gap between them?
Of course he did, and the rational side of him asserted that if he was to have any hope of reaching that point, it wasn't going to happen through violence and force. If Near was ever going to trust him enough to hand over total control then Mello would have to demonstrate that he deserved it. He needed to prove that he could handle that level of dependency without abusing it; that Near was safe with him, that he could let his cracked veneer drop for the necessary few moments it would take Mello to understand the extent of his situation.
He couldn't just demand Near let him in… he needed to earn Near's trust. Unfortunately he had a lifetime of conduct working against him.
Mello finally sighed, his eyes closing just long enough to calm the harsh fires of frustration burning within him, though he could still feel it smoldering, becoming the only quality staving off the bitter cold chilling his bones. "I know what I'm doing." He said. "Trust me. I've been cutting my own hair since I was a kid."
Still the younger was a statuesque depiction of hesitance. Of course Near would be so persistently difficult about everything.
Mello reached out between them suddenly, taking hold of Near's hand and placing the scissors properly in the grip of his fingers, guiding the open jaws up to the ends of his own hair. Time seemed to stop around them as their eyes immediately locked together, exchanging endless amounts of heavy questions and assured statements.
"I know I'm the least likely person to be here right now trying to get you to trust me. But what you don't seem to understand is that when I tell you I'm taking the control away from you, I'm not doing it so I can use you like the institution has no doubt been doing to you." He paused, swallowing down every modicum of pride he had left, as realistically it was the only way he was going to get anywhere. "I'm trying to help you the only way I know how and you're just going to have to believe me. I wouldn't ask you to do anything that I wasn't willing to do myself."
Snip
Mello's eyes widened just a fraction as he broke their stare, watching as bits of his hair that'd previously hung at the side of his face fell down to the floor. It was just the tips of the strands, and not enough to make a substantial difference in appearance, yet their presence against the dark wood seemed to be his own blood signature upon an invisible contract he hadn't realized Near had placed between them.
'Damn him.' He'd fallen right into that. 'Some things never change. He's still such a conniving bastard…' But it was a necessary sacrifice.
Near then moved the scissors, offering the handle out to Mello once more, shifting to stand up once the blonde took them from him, going over to the chair near the middle of the room. His actions all seemed… almost too simple. 'He didn't object when I forced his agreement to the terms earlier. Cutting my hair must be his way of forcing me to agree to his own terms: that I won't make him do anything unreasonable.'
Near took a seat, immediately pulling his left leg up close to his chest, and letting his eyes divert over towards the window as his fingers reached for his hair. The motion again revealed the off-white bandages covering his wrists; pulling at the fine strings of Mello's heart. But he wasn't about to let himself back out again and hinder any progress about to be made.
He too stood up, going over and retrieving the last of the three towels from where he'd abandoned it by the chair, "Sit normally. It'll be easier that way." Surprisingly, Near complied, letting his leg drop back down to the ground and his hand fall into his lap.
He draped the white towel over the front of him, folding it securely in the back and setting to work without another word.
Silence overtook the entire space, broken only by the quiet sound of snipping as Mello cut away the elongated strands of white hair. Each moment that passed seemed to usher the frigid air further into both of their bones, and the longer the older allowed it to persist the more he was reminded of what this room was: a haven, or even a prison, for the greatest minds of the world. What a terrible prize to inherit…
If walls could talk what stories would they share of the time L had lived here? How many nights had these walls been the only witness to every instance of despondency their hero had ever experienced? How many nightmares had they seen him struggle through? What was it like to sit idle watching the world slowly crush down his spine into what became its unnatural curvature? How badly Mello wished he could see just a glimpse of what these walls had witnessed. Anything to have made L more of a real person instead of just a voice from a computer.
But then he thought… maybe he was seeing it. Maybe Near was the lingering remnant to the effects this space, and this job ultimately brought about.
"It's hard to believe he used to live here." Mello heard himself saying in a tone that had fallen to hardly more than a whisper, feeling as though he was speaking not to his childhood rival, but to the only other person on Earth who truly understood what it meant to live in someone like L's shadow. "It all seems so hollow now without his presence lingering around."
He snipped at the strands of hair at the back of Near's neck, shortening the unruly length down to mere short gentle, wavy curls resting just at the base of his neck. "This room used to scare the hell out of me when we were kids. I spent so many nights just trying to work up the courage to come inside. But it always felt like somehow he just knew when I was here. I always had that unsettling feeling of being watched even when I stood outside the door." He inhaled a deep breath, moving then to section off and cut the strands of hair hanging at the sides of his head.
"I don't know how you do it." He continued with a sigh, "I don't understand how you could possibly stand living in this room on a regular basis. Even now it feels like he's still here; like he still watching and judging everything I do…"
"I heard him."
Near's voice was quiet enough as to almost be overshadowed by the sound of the scissors cutting through his hair. Mello's actions came to an immediate halt as the words registered and at once all his attention focused not so much on the fact that Near had finally spoken, but on what it was he was saying. "Who?"
"I heard L." Near continued, his voice remaining barely enough to break the thick air surrounding them, "After I carried out my final decision… while I was waiting, I heard his voice."
All semblance of air at once seemed utterly trapped within Mello's chest as he processed the words Near was offering, at once seeming to disregard any recognition that Near had ever been silent to begin with. In that moment what mattered was not that the vow of silence had been broken, but rather why and what exactly he had experienced to produce such an effect.
"What did he say?" He dared to ask, finally forcing himself to continue working to shortening the locks of white hair on each side, though now the same movements seemed laden with an almost mechanical approach as his attention remained vigilant over Near.
Near held onto the silence for a long minute and for a split second Mello found himself worrying that the detective would lapse back into his mute state just as quickly as he'd come out of it. But finally he responded, "It's nothing but a mental fabrication produced by my brain to save itself. It's not important."
"Near, tell me."
He sighed, "He said: 'Don't give up yet. You're doing fine.' "
Neither successor could bring themselves to say anything more, simultaneously reading through the thickened atmosphere to the thought they were both having. They had each experienced miraculous happenings that would have otherwise seemed nothing short of fiction: gods of death, notebooks that could kill people... Knowing that just those two facts existed, how could either of them be so quick to explain away the notion of the disembodied voice of their predecessor appearing.
Near finally broke the settling tension, "I can't help pondering over the words. Even if I suppose that what I heard was real… I can't begin to understand why L would ever say something so entirely erroneous."
So that's what this was. Or in the very least, it was part of the reason that Near had held his silence for so long. On some level he was allowing himself to process what he had experienced and understand what it ultimately meant. By the sound of it, though, it didn't seem that he'd come to any definitive conclusions.
Mello quickly checked his work on either side of Near's head to assure that his work was as even as he could get it. Then, he moved around to the front of him, reaching to the troublesome bangs that had hung before the younger's face and quickly cutting them away. Immediately it revealed those slate gray eyes that now were full of wonder and questions that Mello didn't yet have the proper answers for. But that didn't mean he wasn't willing to go find them if that was what was needed of him.
"He's not wrong, you know." Mello finally told him.
Gray orbs narrowed, "That's awfully ironic considering what you said earlier."
He shook his head, "What I mean is that you can't just…" he paused, the words harder to properly form then he cared to admit, "You can't get like this just because things don't go your way. I told you, you're better than this. You know better than to let the game get the better of you. It's not like you." He paused, "What's going on? What's happened?"
Near regarded him for but a single moment before he looked away, his hand appearing from beneath the makeshift cover to reach up for the shortened locks of his hair. Immediately his look shot back to Mello, "You cut it too short."
The blonde chuckled, looking over his work, and even going so far as to reach out and push the strands about in order to make sure he hadn't missed any areas. "It looks fine." He concluded. It felt almost refreshing to see the snowy locks resting atop his head in a manner highly reminiscent of the length he'd always had when they were younger. His precise memory for details had served him well. "You'll get used to it being short. But I'm not above shaving your head if you're just going to keep complaining about my work."
Near's lips pursed, "Wouldn't you think that would only result in me complaining more? How many years has it been, and yet still you lack the ability to properly think things through."
"I liked this arrangement a lot more when you were mute." His arms crossed over his chest, watching Near become familiar with the new feeling of his shortened locks and letting himself consider the information he'd revealed. Had L really shown up after what he'd done? Maybe. It certainly sounded like something L would do, and something he would say. He always did seem to enjoy being rather cryptic with his messages…
But the ultimate point was that Mello was now in possession of that message, and if he allowed himself to assume that it had indeed been L delivering it to Near, and subsequently to Mello, then he was willing to work with that offering, however minute it was. "This is a good start. But we have a lot more work to do." He smirked, "Welcome back to the real world, Near."
A/N: I don't even know what I'm feeling about this chapter. Originally it was supposed to go much longer than this, but I felt it was important to give the two of them this time together, for various reasons. Anyway, I don't know, somehow this chapter doesn't seem to live up to the expectations I had for it in a lot of ways. But what really matters is your opinion. So what did you think? Was it enjoyable? What do you think will come next? I'd appreciate any comments you have!
Please review
-Forbiddensoul562
