Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of the characters except for the OCs.

CHAPTER 10

Valerie

I looked at Mello, pop-eyed, slack-jawed, unable to react. It took me five full seconds to process his earlier words.

"What?" My breath was hitched in my throat.

Mello raised an eyebrow. "I said, for a French girl, you sure lack the elegance," he repeated, keeping his face straight, never breaking eye contact. "I know you hear me the first time."

I did hear him the first time. I just stopped listening right after the 'French girl' part. Wait a sec here, just why... how...

"How did you know that?" I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Instinctively I scooted away on my seat.

I swore that Mello looked as if he's enjoying this–making me uncomfortable before his eyes. "The lack of the elegance?" he asked back, almost mockingly. "For starters, it's not every day I got punched and kicked by a girl... or earning the nickname bloody monster from the same girl, that is."

I felt my face getting hotter with embarrassment at the way he purposefully pointed out my emotional outburst back at the fire escape. I saw the corners of his lips slightly curled upward into a satisfied smirk and I scowled at him. I took a deep breath and trying to regain my composure. "Not that," I responded eventually, my tone crisp. "I'm asking how you know my nationality."

That smirk never faded. "You had quite a moment at the first burning block incident."

Staring at him in confusion, I tried to dig my memory but no result. Alright, that bloody monster part was one thing, but how the hell I was supposed to remember every single detail around me in the middle of that chaos? And apparently Mello saw through this.

"I think you said something among... 'putain de bordel de merde(1)'."

He spoke again, citing the phrase flawlessly, and now I thought I remembered. I was ranting the same sentence at the moment that damn burning block almost hitting my skull off. He heard that? And he actually knew the meaning. Dear God, can't I just disappear right here and right now?

"Tu es français?(2)" I asked him.

"Non(3)," he replied. "But I know a word or two. You're not the only one well-educated here."

The curse words, you mean... Great, now I knew I couldn't secretly talk bad in my native language behind his back. Especially if he was the subject I'd most likely talk bad of.

I pursed my lips. "Sorry about that."

He was quiet briefly. "Everybody swears."

"No, that's not what I–" Is he doing this purposefully? "Ok, that too, but I mean... I'm sorry for punching and kicking you before," I muttered uneasily. "And for calling you that. I didn't mean to."

"Well, you seemed quite eager back there."

He is doing this purposefully. I released a long sigh. "I was in panic, ok? Anyone would do the same."

"Hmm. I doubt that," Mello shifted his right leg, hissing as he did so, "but I understand. In fact, enough chit-chats. I came to talk about something else."

I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue in anticipation. Was he going to let me go, finally? Now that the man named Jack's dead, he would no longer need me, right? Or was he planning to make a deal before letting me go? He said he came to talk, so... he wouldn't just shoot me dead here and now, right?

I gulped nervously. My fingers pulled the blanket tighter around my body. Right?

Mello rested his elbows on his thighs, casting his eyes at the ground below and not saying any word for a moment. Finally he looked up, his piercing blue eyes stared right into mine. The earlier smirk had vanished. And for the first time since I first saw him, I didn't think of him as scary. There, Mello actually looked... human.

"I mean to say... I'm sorry."

Mello

The look on Valerie's face was... I didn't even know how to describe how it was. One thing for sure though: she didn't expect that.

Apologizing was already hard enough for me. You saw how I was beating around the bush earlier? Don't think I wasn't aware of how I had successfully irked the girl–in fact, that was partially intentional. I preferred to refer to it as breaking the ice. Hey, it was already awkward enough for me and wouldn't have it been more awkward to both of us if I sat before her eyes and blurted out of nothing, 'Heya, sorry for all this shit, you forgive me, right? Are we cool? Ok, we're cool. So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen(4), good night'. No fucking way.

Besides, she did punch me and kick me and call me a bloody monster. I could take any other kind of insult without batting an eye, really: asshole, jerkass, scum, douchebag, son of a bitch; whatever, name it. But monster? When I was risking my own ass to save her ass up there?

I had already felt like a monster due to these hideous burns, yet she chose to say it upfront to my face. Fine, she was terrified at that moment, I got that, and I had said I didn't want to push her anymore for the rest of the day. Still, I felt like I should give her a piece of my mind even in the most subtle way possible. Sorry not sorry, old habit.

I didn't expect Valerie to apologize right away, though. That's why I had said it was partially intentional. But thanks to that, it actually made it easier to move the topic back to what I had firstly intended to say to her.

Valerie still didn't say anything and I could see she was silently waiting for me to say more. Swallowing my pride, I continued, "I know today's been full of shit," I began slowly, trying to keep my tone even and made sure she listened to every word, "I know I have been treating you like shit, and you don't deserve any of that."

I paused there, not sure of what more to tell her. But I observed Valerie's posture gradually changed; she seemed slightly less tense than before. And she's paying full intention. Things were progressing better than what I had expected earlier, to my relief.

She then opened her mouth, looking as if she wanted to speak, but for whatever reason she chose to refrain from saying anything. I didn't miss that.

"If there's anything you wanna say, just say it," I tried to assure her without sounding too harsh. Not much of a success.

The brunette shook her head. "I'll listen until you finish," she replied.

"It's ok. No need to be afraid."

"I'm not." She's a bad liar.

"I know you were crying back at the alley."

Valerie seemed appalled by this newfound fact. She looked at me incredulously before her eyes drifted off, clearly upset.

I mentally smacked my head. Real smooth, Mello. I shouldn't have said that. Maybe now she thought I was toying with her even though I wasn't. Shit, as if apologizing wasn't difficult enough already. What if she cries again? Told Matt she would freak out if I talked to her. Well excuse me if this sounded lame, I had never dealt with women in this kind of situation before!

"I get that you're scared," I hurriedly said, trying to bring her attention back, "and I fully understand. None of us–Matt or I–knew Rod would come. None of us knew he would kill Jack. What's been happening today, I can assure you I didn't expect any of them either and... I owe you my apologies for getting you involved."

I saw Valerie rolled her eyes back at mine, looking at me in some way as if considering if I was telling the truth. I exhaled wearily, running my palm across my face. "Look, I'm not asking you to forgive me. I just need you to know I'm sorry. Matt's sorry. We're sorry. And maybe it's too late to say this but..." I paused only for a split second, eyeing the metal crucifix hanging over my chest, "... thank you. For cooperating to this far."

She didn't say a word. I didn't expect her to say anything anyway. Thick silence surrounding us in the following seconds as the cold wind blew, leaves rustling on the trees around the area, the breeze caressing my face gently. I figured that she still wouldn't talk, but it didn't matter now. My job here was finished. I knew if I stayed any longer it would only bode to more awkwardness between us.

So I pulled myself back to my feet, and fuck, that's a big mistake; the familiar pain shot right back from my right ankle and I couldn't help but groaned, instantly falling back to the bike seat. In reflex I lifted and rested my right leg against my left thigh, carefully holding the ankle part in my hands.

"Oh my God, are you alright?"

Valerie's voice turned my attention away and I looked up, finding she had snuck her head out of the car, looking at me in concern.

"I'm fine," I hissed through gritted teeth.

It wasn't surprising if she didn't buy that. "Let me see your ankle." She stepped down from the car before I could say anything and hurryingly approached my bike, kneeling below to get a better look.

"It's just a sprain. It's nothing."

She locked her eyes at mine. "I will decide what's nothing and what's not," she declared in a low voice, yet firmly. "Now show me your ankle."

I sighed. Who am I to argue with a doctor in training? I decided to obey and began untying my boot before carefully dismissed it.

Valerie

At first I had expected a worse injury than a sprain (if I had learned anything today, that would be Mello's tendency to dismiss things that would endanger his life), but it looked like he was telling the truth. His ankle was swollen with a bruise, and from the look of it, there wasn't an open fracture, thank goodness. From how he had managed to walk earlier I would've thought it was a grade one sprain but I started to think it might have been a grade two, if not worse, from looking how he really seemed in pain just a minute ago.

Criminal or not, there wasn't much difference as for now; he had properly apologized to me, and knowing how proud, arrogant man he was, it must have not been easy for him. I certainly wouldn't pretend that knowing he was aware of my mental breakdown at the alley didn't bother me. It fact, I couldn't even described how ashamed I was; what could be more embarrassing that getting caught crying like a baby by your own captor/abductor?

But Mello knew. And he didn't make fun of me; not even that time, not even now. He only brought the topic to make a point that he was aware of how terrified I was, and he was sorry for that. You didn't hear about criminals who were sorry for their victims so often.

I knew that I still had to keep my eyes open all the time, though. I still didn't know Mello and Matt that well, and there was still a chance that the whole apologize act was nothing but a part of their schemes. But I decided not to think about that right now; Mello's injury came first. Anyway, I had to act fast.

"Wait a sec," I said and quickly ran back to the car, grabbed a few ice packs, then hurried back to Mello. I was confused for a moment there since there's no way I press the ice pack directly to his swollen skin but there's no towel or cloth as well, only the thin blanket I was currently wrapping around my body. So, as awkward as it was, I settled on draping the tip of the blanket over Mello's ankle before holding the ice pack against it, at the same time standing in front of him while keeping the rest of the blanket wrapped around my body to keep myself warm from the cold air.

"I'll get this," Mello said before taking the ice pack off my hand and held it against the blanket over his ankle. I just let him.

"Fine. Just hold it for 10 to 20 minutes. It will reduce the pain and the swelling," I replied.

He hesitated before decided to speak up afterwards. "Is the blanket necessary?"

"Huh?"

"The blanket. Can't I just apply the ice directly?"

"Oh. You can't apply ice directly on bruises. It will only cause more damage to the tissue or even frost bite."

"Hmm. Ok. Since you seem uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," I quickly retorted, not wanting to admit that he's right. It wasn't standing in the middle of cold weather that really bothered me; it was standing in only inches away from the scarred ex-Mafioso and that condemned gun of his that did.

If Mello enjoyed making me uncomfortable at the very moment just like he did before, this time he hid it well. "I can sit inside the car, if you want."

"Don't. You can't force yourself to walk."

"I do it all the time. It's not my first sprain, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "That is exactly why most people end up having worse injuries than they initially have. Don't get me started on how many people lose their arms and legs just because they ignore any signs of initial injuries before realizing they're wrong and that they should've sought medical treatments sooner and then it's too late and then—"

My rant was cut off by Mello's chuckle. I looked over at him, astonished. Mello had chuckled. He had laughed. Apparently he could laugh. A pure laugh—not just that annoying smirk of his.

But wait—did he just laugh at me?

"What's so funny?" I deadpanned.

"You, actually," he said when his laughter had faded out. "You're really paranoid. And Matt told me I'm paranoid. He should've got to know you before he got to know me."

I didn't know what to reply to that. Or if I wanted to reply at all. So I decided to get back to the main topic. "When did you find out about the sprain?"

Mello shrugged indifferently. "When we just came here."

"Why didn't you say it sooner?"

"It wasn't so painful at first."

I sighed and massaged the area between my eyes tiredly. "Fine. Are you injured anywhere else? Any bumps?"

"... On the back of my head, I think."

I walked over to his back to see it by myself. In the process, I secretly admitted that this gesture I did, carefully parting Mello's golden hair to check for the bump, was oddly, awkwardly... intimate, for the lack of the better word. I mentally shook my head to diminish the thought.

"It's bruised but doesn't look like anything major… does it really hurt?"

"A bit, but not badly."

"Ok." I moved back and stopped just before his eyes. "So a sprain and a bump. Anything else?"

Mello's blue eyes stared right at me, as if considering what to respond. After a moment of silence, he gave out a huff. "I have bruises and cuts over my right arm and the right side of my upper body. Nothing serious."

"Like I said, I will decide what's nothing and what's not. Let me see."

He lifted one eyebrow. "You want me to take off my clothes here?"

"Not all of them!" Why didn't they teach me how to handle a patient as difficult as he is in school? "Just—jeez, just take off your jacket. Let me have a look on your arm."

Thankfully he didn't make it any more difficult as he complied and slid off his jacket. I immediately took a look on his right arm. He was right about the bruises, but not about the cuts. Some of them actually needed stitches. It confused me to the peak on how Mello had acted like those cuts were really nothing.

Mello

"Are you even human..." Valerie absent-mindedly mumbled while shaking her head in disbelief.

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "The last time I checked, someone told me that I belong to another species."

I nearly burst out laughing at the sight of her expression; she did look like she wanted to punch me in the face if she could. Been a while since the last time I enjoyed pissing people off to the core. At the end, she chose to brush it off. "You'll need stitches. We have to stop by the hospital."

The moment those words escaped from her mouth, I turned stiff. I backed away, my eyes narrowed. "No," I muttered coldly.

"Why not?"

Does she really have to ask? "I can't risk getting seen in public."

"Mello, you're injured, and you need medical treatments as soon as possible."

"You're the med student. You do it."

Valerie sighed impatiently. "I am a student, not a doctor. I don't have the same level of expertise or tools or license. I'm not even sure how severe your ankle actually is. I can provide you the first aid, but that's it," she asserted. After that she quickly looked around. "Where's Matt? Oh, there he is—Matt! Come here!"

My eyes travelled away and found Matt running to our direction and stopped just before our eyes. "What's up?" he asked lightly, looking confused for a moment there about the way Valerie stood so close in front of me with the tip of the blanket draped over my ankle, but when he landed his eyes on the cuts over my right arm, his eyes bulged out. "Holy shit—Mello, you never told me your cuts are this bad!"

I simply rolled my eyes. "I've been worse."

"He needs to get to the hospital," Valerie told him. "Not just the cuts, he has a bump on the back of his head, and his ankle needs immediate attention as well."

"I told him to go to the hospital. He insisted he doesn't want to," Matt said, looking serious.

"I don't need to—it'll heal by time," I objected. "Stop making a fuss over all of this, would you?"

She ignored me and turned back to Matt. "I think I know a hospital nearby; I did my pre-med internship there a while ago. I can show you the direction. But first, I'll need to bandage Mello's wounds and ankle."

"Fine with me, but..." Matt looked over at me hesitatingly.

Valerie kept a straight face. "Your friend here needs to learn to take care of himself."

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," I grunted.

"Oh really?" Valerie looked back at me. The corners of her lips twitched downward. "You know you can get infections from untreated wounds?"

"So? It doesn't mean—"

"Can you perform stitches by yourself?"

"Of course I can't, but—"

"In a scale of 1 to 5, how would you describe the pain on your ankle?"

"What the fuck—"

"Mello, just answer."

"Fine! 3 or 4, happy now?"

"Can you distinguish between the pain caused by a torn ligament and a fractured bone?"

"Huh?"

"Can you be sure it isn't a torn deltoid ligament?"

"A torn what?"

"Can you be sure you don't suffer from either a lateral malleolus fracture or bimollear fracture?"

"Speak in human language, for fuck's sake!"

"See? You can't be sure if it is indeed an ordinary sprain or worse. I can't be sure either. You need to go to the hospital."

"Who do you think you are to order me around?"

"Mello, she's right. If you don't treat your injuries sooner, it'll only get worse."

"Shut up, Matt."

"No, Sir. You shut up."

I glared at the girl, who was glaring back at me in return. Did she just fucking tell me to shut up? Even I could see Matt's looking over at her in disbelief with an open mouth.

Valerie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, releasing it slowly, before opening her eyes and looked sternly at both Matt and I. "You two here have been telling me on what to do or what not to do the entire day. You two have brought me into a chaos I never signed up for. And yet, you two have told me how sorry you are for all of that."

She stopped for a second, wiping her hand across her face frustratingly, and rolled her eyes at me, sending a stoic look. "And Mello, you said earlier that since I'm the med student, I should get you your treatment. So yes; I am the med student, I have seen what it really looks like under human skin, I know about how human body works more than you, and now I'm telling you to get your injuries treated in the hospital," she ranted on. "So if you're truly sorry about treating me like shit the whole day, you'll say nothing more and do as I say. Are we clear?"

1. Curse words, loosely translated as "for fuck's sake"

2. You're French?

3. No.

4. German for goodbye, literally meaning "until we see again"

A/N: Who else read the 'so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, good night' part while mentally singing the song from The Sound of Music?

And wow, this story hits 1200+ views already! You guys rock, you know that?

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