The first thing that Rod thinks to do is reach Mello. The cameras and the reporters go insane, making him angry and disgusted. He flips them off, telling Skyar to get the car running and wait for them. Skyar disappears off, understanding fully that Mello would need Rod now, not him. Rod rushes to the police barrier that's been made slightly unorganised; they aren't sure what to do about the body – some smart-ass has used their jacket to cover him up, but Rod still needs to reach Mello. He doesn't bother asking permission, assuming correctly that his look alone would grant him access up to the roof. He gets tired by the second floor because although he works with the Mafia, he's not been this panicked since the fire incident, and he's not sure how Mello will react. He rushes through the roof-door, the police filing back downstairs, muttering to themselves. Some have stayed with Mello, and are attempting to comfort him, but he's not reacting. He motions for them to leave and grabs Mello's shoulders, spinning him to face him and tugging him into a hug that even Rod isn't sure what it means. It could be a pity-hug, a sympathy-hug, an it'll-be-alright-hug; but it's a hug that he's sure Mello needs; to feel comfort, to feel something existing rather than the black void that would now fill his mind, body, and soul, until his heart had time to process what had happened.
"I couldn't stop him" Mello whispers, Rod moving slightly to get a better view of the teens face. Seconds later and Mello is clutching him so tightly that he can't move to get a better view, so he thinks that wanting to understand Mello isn't the main thing just now; making sure he's safe and feels safe and understood.
"Skyar's in the car. We can get out of here and go home" Rod isn't going to add 'if you want' or 'if you'd like to do that' because he knows, from personal experience, that leaving options open to people who have witnessed something like this isn't the safest thing to do. It gives them a line, a life-line, a way out to do what they think is right in the way of dealing with this; Rod knows it's not the safest thing to do. "Come on" He takes Mello's hand in a tight grip before leading him through the door of the roof and down the steps. He isn't prepared for the similarly-tight grip that Mello gives back, his smaller hand shaking and cold in Rod's larger, sturdy, and much warmer one. Rod squeezes it even more, showing Mello that he can be the Rock that he needs. Mello takes far too long getting down the first set of stairs; Rod makes a cruel decision to hurry him up. In his head, it sounds harsh, but in his heart, he knows that it'll be the safe, the best, and the right thing in the long run. He walks faster down the stairs, Mello struggling on behind him in his state of shock.
"Rod...stop" He breathes, not quite able to get his voice back. Rod doesn't, dragging them quickly down the stairs, through the corridor and very near the main doors.
"Mel..." Rod slows down a little, squeezing Mello's hand. Mello gives him a blank look. Rod understands it, and knowing Mello isn't able to fully function, simply reminds him to – "Hold your breath and count to ten" Mello blinks, something of a vague memory returning. He nods numbly, squeezing Rod's pulsing hand with his own and sucking in a breath. He begins counting.
By the time he reaches ten, he blows out his long-held breath.
They're at the car and Rod is ushering him protectively into the navy blue BMW. He glances out the black out windows; he's sure that there are more reporters than befotr. He turns his attention to the seats, the comfy white leather that always gives him that safe and comforted feeling. Skyar drives them out of the school effectively and efficiently; None of them bother with seatbelts, it's not something they need to think about.
They get back to the mansion of a house in ten minutes, even with Skyar's excellent driving. Mello shuffles out, stepping up the few steps with his body feeling like a ton of reaches over and unlocks the door for him, letting him wander in like a newly bought puppy.
"OhMyGod Mello I just heard!" – talking of puppies... "—" Misa charges from the sofa, over the back of it and onto Mello, flailing her arms around him. "It's so sad! Are you ok? I'm here if you need to-" Rod saw Mello's hand flinch, only able to open his mouth in protest before the pale hand flew up and knocked the hyper girl back. Stunned, Misa puts a hand over her cheek with her eyes wide and wet, tears beginning to trail down her face in shock. Rod knows that now is not the best time to yell at Mello for his attitude. Mello doesn't even seem sorry for his actions, simply walking past his sister and into the kitchen for some bottled water. Rod helps the girl up, keeping an eye on Mello until Skyar follows him into the kitchen. He turns to Misa and brushes a hand over her hair.
"He's upset... didn't need you being all happy-go-lucky when he's just lost two of his best friends in the space of one day"
"I guess it was stupid...but now it's gonna' bruise" She touches her cheek lightly and then sighs, looking up at Rod. "I'm a little self centered...arent i?" Rod chuckles lightly and nods, petting the girls head and sighing.
"Just tone it down for a while, ok?" She nods and builds up a breath for confidence. She's going to go and apologise to Mello for being a blonde twit, but barely reaches the kitchen door before there's a loud crash, followed by a bang, preceeding Mello storming out of the kitchen in anger. Misa, knowing her brothers tantrums all to well (for they were sometimes much like her own), was surprised to see the tear-stained cheeks as he raged past her and upstairs. She pokes her head into the kitchen, Rod frowning next to her at Skyar, who was looking just as dumbfounded as Misa was.
"What happened?" She asks lightly, seeing a well decorated, very jammy looking cake balanced half on the tray it was meant to be on, the other half sliding onto Skyars arm.
"Can you just poke it back on or something, it's freakin' sticky" Misa gladly gives the sliding top a push back onto the tray, at which Skyar puts it back in the fridge and picks up a note from the floor.
"Oh-...fuck" Rod sighs, rubbing his head. "That's the jam cake"
"Rod, we can see that its a jam cake, thanks" Misa sighs, waving her finger slightly. "It's got soo many calories im not even sure I want a piece – but it looks so gooood-"
"No, it's Mello's jam cake. He made it with A before" Skyar frowns. "I know, because they left me with very specific instructions 'not to eat the jam cake' ... I left the fridge alone for the rest of the day..."
"Did they make it for BB?" Misa sighs. "Now I understand why Mello is so mad...Should we check on him?" There's a three second pause, none of the three knowing what to do. During the pause, there's the very clear sound of retching, to which Misa begins freaking out with her hands over her ears and her eyes screwed shut, and Rod and Skyar grimace slightly.
"You know I hate the stuff" Rod murmurs. "You do it"
"It'll be better if you do it; you're his dad"
"Just do it" Rod growls.
"No way" Skyar shakes his head. "I'll check the CCTV tapes; if the police come around wanting a statement it'll be the last thing that Mel wants. I can give them the CCTV tapes as coverage"
"They'll want to know how you got them; it's a stupid idea"
"I have a reliable alibi. I'll get on that then" Skyar disappears off, leaving Rod cringing at the thought of watching Mello throw up and a very squeamish Misa. He shudders.
"I'll go help Mel" Misa decides randomly, picking up her i-Pod from the counter in the corridor and pacing up the plugged them in and turned themusic up so loud that Rod could still hear it once she was half way up the steps, but wasn't going to disagree with her.
Around three o'clock, the police come knocking. They want Mello's recollection of events; Skyar's managed to stall them for as long as possible but Mello will have to talk to them at some point. Misa manages to talk him down; the sickness has died away, but leaving him groggy and very much sluggish. He's changed into his baggy T-shirt and some old tracksuit bottoms, wrapped warmly in one of Misa's many fluffy blankets. Despite the fact it's bright pink, Mello is actually quite comfy. It takes an hour overall, time he feels passes too quickly (strangely) to be able to give them all the details that they need to know. They get Mello's record of events, and then match it to what happened on the tape. They agree that Mello isn't a suspect and didn't drive BB any further to his suicide that he had already intended, or at least, if he did there wasn't any evidence. They clarified that there wasn't anybody else involved in the cases, so no accessories were needed. They'd also found BB's confession amongst his belongings for the murder of Derrick; Mello wasn't too surprised. If anything, he was guiltily thinking that it was best that BB had gone with A, else the charges would have ruined him. BB's prior cases, such as (inadvertently) killing A, and now the murder of Derrick were excused. They asked if the pair had any known relatives, someone to sort out their funeral arrangements, their belongings and such. Mello didn't know of any. He was elected as such and would be kept informed as to what was happening and what to do. Skyar asked the police before they left, what the case would be filed as; They said it would most likely be suicide. Misa, intellectually, asked what about A? BB had obviously shot himself and it was an ovious suicide, but would A count as suicide if BB had helped him? The police said A's case would go down as Murder, as the pair had failed to complete the suicide together and BB had survived, facing the realities of a murder. Mello didn't think it seemed right, putting A down as murdered, only to have BB down as a suicide. He asked if there was a way to make it so both cases could be labelled as suicide. They said it couldn't, not officially. However that didn't mean that it couldn't be known. Simply put, on the official files at the police station, and any important people that needed to know, it would be labelled as a murder and a suicide. Anyone else could see it as a joint suicide if they wished, but it would have to make its own way out, issued not in a police report, but a public one. A magazine, a newspaper, an interview. Rod told them that it wouldn't be an issue, and Mello signs the paper that says the police will label the cases as mentioned, but leave it out of any police reports that they will be giving to the public. After a long afternoon, they left, thanking the family for their co'operation.
As soon as they're gone, Mello heads upstairs to think. He trudges across the corridor, his mind blank and grey, reaching his door and pushing it open with nothing but a weak attempt. Closing it behind him, he sees his phone flashing on the desk and picks it up. It's a text, from Oli.
Hey, saw the news... can't be good. We here if you want us (:
Part of me loved that him and his friends were like one mini family, ready to catch my fall. The other half was hesitant that it was all just an act. I text him back; Hi, yeah...thanks ):
I'm not sure what else to put; there seems to be a necessity for a smiley in there somewhere, and its the most appropriate one. I send it and sigh, flopping onto my bed. I glance at the clock and it's only quarter past two. God, I feel like shit.
He's on the roof, laughing manically.
I'm chained to the floor; I can't move to stop him edging closer to the edge.
I try and call out but my voice isn't there. My mouth opens and closes in a failed attempt to scream at him to stop.
He edges closer.
The gun flashes into sight.
A apparitions in front of me, running in slow-mo towards BB, trying to stop him.
I think that's what's happening.
BB pulls the trigger.
The gun falls out of his hands due to his loss of grip. A runs into him, gripping his slowly-falling body as they both disappear over the edge.
Black.
Dark.
Empty.
Void.
Empty.
Dark.
Black.
We're sitting in the cafe.
I note that my cup of whatever is inches way from my face.
The warm liquid is still going down my throat.
I've just finished a sip.
A has a glass of water, sipping it lightly through a straw.
BB is gulping down his coffee-thing.
Mine's hot-chocolate, I smell it. I don't seem to be doing much of anything with it now.
"Not thirsty, Melly?" His voice echoes, his smile engraving itself in my head.
"How can he not be thirsty for hot chocolate?" BB asks. I take the hot chocolate and start drinking. Everything feels OK. BB leans forwards, grinning. "There we go"
He wraps an arm comfortingly around A.
The pair are happy.
More than happy.
Peaceful.
Bang.