There are many exits in Wammy's House, some take you to the large backyard or the trail to the garage, but only the main wooden doors take you outside to the metal gates. The only way to the outside world, so if Mello was indeed leaving then he'd run into me out here.
I played with the strap of my purse, feeling oddly foolish just standing alone. I could hear the heavy footsteps coming down the polished flooring before I saw the shakes of golden hair and the sad face it framed around.
Once our eyes met, as we stood before each other, his heart hardened against me.
"I don't need your help either." Mello pointed out.
"I worked with L for years and on the Kira case while it was under him. All you have on you is your dual citizenship, now…"
I trailed off while digging inside my bag until I pulled out a keyring with a single key.
"Get in the car, we've got work to do."
My rental was parked across the street, a nice red Vauxhall, as I popped the trunk for Mello's things and started the engine. I felt a gleeful nervous feeling sinking in, being in such proximity with my son for the drive to the airport had my nerve endings buzzing.
As I fixed the rearview mirror, I asked Mello to grab the file laying on the backseat before fastening his seatbelt. It was sandwiched thick with printouts I had typed up back at Steve's house. It contained everything I had burned into my brain since joining the Kira investigation.
"If you're not going to work with Near, then you need to at least be on even ground."
It was weird to realize the last six years of my life were being flipped through by one of my children. If I were to die soon, that stack of information would be the only proof of my existence someone could touch.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mello put the file on his lap. I couldn't make out much more with the clues I had, but something was on his mind.
"I always assumed my parents died…"
My heart fluttered as I stopped with the flow of traffic at a red light, taking the chance to look over at him.
"Is that what they told you?" I asked, tripping over my heart stuck in my throat.
"Heavily implied, so you don't go chasing ghosts."
I forced myself to see it from L's point of view, looking past the crimson haze. If they think I'm dead then Near and Mello could pay attention to their studies and all that jazz. However, I'm alive and L is dead, so who left to pay for all the lies? I had a wonderful example of family and parents, and the knot I'm trying to untangle just won't fray.
My silence must have been overbearing since it seemed to force a question out of Mello's lips.
"Where have you been?"
It was a damn good question, great even, but one that hung thick in the air. I pulled over to the side of the road, pushing on the caution lights. When I asked, I wanted to face Mello, and he'd waited too long.
"I honestly don't know how to answer your question, Mello. I should have been there, but L…"
Heat charred my cheeks, it felt weird to be talking about L like this.
Flashbacks of that fight (I yelled, he ate) played in snippets, lightning of regret and anger crackled down on my memories. I found telling the truth was a lump in my throat and a strain on my heart.
"L, no your father…"
The sudden change of title was important because we weren't talking about the world's greatest detective but the human being I shared a night with and loved.
"He didn't understand why I never wanted this life for you as he and I had. I never went to a normal school unless it was undercover or hung out with people my age unless I was trailing someone."
The sadness built up in my chest, thinking over the horrifying fact that I was speaking to deaf ears because it's already happened to them, the things both Mello and Near have missed in their sixteen years on this planet. God, if I had found them only sooner…
"We were lucky, L and I, we found each other when in reality it shouldn't have happened. In this lifestyle, you're alone most of the time."
I realized the whole time I had been staring off into the distance, living off past lives. I focused my line of sight on what I should be looking at, Mello.
I smiled softly at him, telling myself to leave the past in the past. After asking him if he had any more questions and getting negative confirmation, another topic needed to be brought up but I could get back on the road for it.
"Back to business, I just wanted to put it out there that I'm not taking over anything. Think of me as your own Watari,"
I just wasn't as rich.
"Though I might have things to say or advice to give."
I heard Mello flip through the papers once more.
"That's good to hear, think you could buy some plane tickets?"
I agreed to do it, having enough in the bank for whatever Mello could come up with in this investigation, but I was curious.
"Though I need one for tonight and the other for tomorrow."
Making a mental note of the different times, I followed the motorway signs to inform me when to turn off for an international airport. After turning right, I asked what his plan was.
"It's obvious that there is more than one of these notebooks in use. We have to assume that even if the Task Force is now under the control of this Light Yagami, they wouldn't be so stupid as to unlock the Death Note they confiscated from Yotsuba."
I agreed, even if I hadn't worked personally with the Task Force they were still officers. It was a safe deduction.
"While I read the rule about how a fragment of the pages will have the same power as the notebook, I do not believe there are more than two as of right now."
The painful thought was caught wandering into my head if Light, while under L's watch, didn't have a piece somewhere on him then couldn't he…
Highlights of the night of Higuchi's death as Yotsuba Kira. The painful screams from the young man just seconds before that Kira's death. Did Light cause his death right in front of L and me?
"Those are some strong leads, but why the different tickets?"
"I have a business to attend before going back with you to the States. If Near is going to have the FBI on his side then I want something bigger."
I felt the chill of worry slide down my spine, asking Mello if he knew how to drive yet, an important speed bump if we were to depart soon. Luckily, at good ole Wammy's House, every child competing for the L title gets to learn to drive as soon as 14. I found out through a bragging Mello that that's how long he's had his fake driver's license while Near opted out of the course.
In the States, I'd have to make sure to contact a few old cohorts and get him a real ID without his real name on it. You know, just in case.