This is the one-shot (I repeat, ONE-SHOT) sequel to Athenae. Brought to you by overwhelming requests, I might add. Now, if you think that Athenae ended perfectly and didn't need a sequel, feel free to ignore this. This is just for those who didn't feel a sense of completeness or wanted to see a more happy ending. Well, I can't say that this is particularly happy, but I think that you will all enjoy it. Special thanks goes to flamablechoklit for the wonderful message used at the beginning as well as for my first FANART (the pictures are for Athenae). There are links to the pics on my profile, so check it out if you have time. I couldn't be more pleased. :)

WARNINGS: foul language, psychological angst

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or it's characters.

Sometimes God creates beings too perfect for earth,
and in turn, these beings are torn down by humanity
because perfection is beyond their understanding.

~to Nikki, for being a Mello in her own right

~_~_~_~_~_Matt_~_~_~_~_~

"Happy birthday!"

Nate looked down in embarrassment at all the attention he was getting. His peach colored nails shimmered in the light as he curled some snow white hair with his finger.

"I appreciate your joviality, but could you maybe tone it down a bit?"

I snorted as another round of drinks was brought to us. "C'mon! You've reached the big Two-One! Let loose a bit!"

"I don't think-"

"You know Gevanni would appreciate it," I teased, seeing the small boy light up like a light bulb.

Gevanni waggled his eyebrows appreciatively over his glass of Budweiser Light. Pansy. I wasn't going to end my summer without something particularly strong. But, the vodka would have to wait until I was ready to go home.

"Mr. Jeevas, I really don't think that I could handle an alcoholic beverage," Near begged. Poor boy, he was just worried about acting like a drunken fool around his boyfriend.

"And for crying out loud, are you still calling me 'Mr. Jeevas'? Ugh, you're making me feel old."

"I apologize."

"Well, you are old," Gevanni jumped in.

I swatted him upside the head. "You guys are just young whippersnappers. It's not my fault you guys grew up so fast."

"You don't look old," Nate tried. "I mean, you're still good-" he shot a quick glance to Gevanni before rushing on, "g-good looking."

The dark-haired Italian rolled his eyes and I chuckled as I swallowed some more of my bourbon. Smooth smoke and oak flavor rolled over my taste buds, bathing them in awesomeness. Caramel made its appearance as an aftertaste before being drowned by another gulp of the alcoholic beverage. "Thanks, Nate. I feel a little better knowing that I'm like Sean Connery. Old and fucking hot."

Honestly, I couldn't believe that young little Nate who would cry over his disposed pink socks still had a crush on me. I would have bet money that he'd be over me as soon as Gevanni took him to the locker room, but nope. Thankfully, Gevanni wasn't the crazy jealous I'll-bust-your-lip-for-looking-at-another-man type of guy. He was pretty tolerant and madly in love with the pale boy. Er, man, I suppose. "Come on, just try a little of something! That's why we're here."

Nate studied the menu critically as he considered his options. I wouldn't be surprised if he was actually reading their ingredients and analyzing what would get him the least drunk. "Hmmm, perhaps I should get a coke with rum?"

"Please," I snorted. "Be adventurous!" Snatching the menu away from him, I called over our hostess. "Bring my friend a Pimm's cup! Heavy on the lemon, 'kay?"

"Wow, you sure do know your alcohol," Gevanni mumbled. "And being a councilor too. Didn't you ever go to school with a hangover?"

"Ah, this is where the line between adult and child is evident," I teased. "I do not get drunk. Drinking is just recreational and for fun, not to get smashed."

Nate seemed to look a little more reassured after I said that. "It's a good thing you're here, Mr. Jeevas. Gevanni thinks it's macho to come home in a drunken stupor."

"Hey! I don't even drink that much!"

We all had a good laugh, and when Nate finally had his first drink we cheered. He looked slightly surprised as he swallowed the drink, but it was a pleasant surprise. With that under his belt, he relaxed a bit more and we carried on through the night. School would be starting once the weekend was over, and I was looking forward to it. Several of my "kids" had been texting me about their summer and all seemed well. But, another year always meant new students and the beginning was always the worst. The new kids wouldn't understand the rules of tolerance and I would have to work extra hard to keep the peace. However, if I didn't like it, I wouldn't still be doing it.

Looking into my empty cup, I felt a twinge of pain again. The drink was gone, forgotten already. "Smirnoff ice-red label," I ordered glumly. Gevanni raised his eyebrow, but I ignored it. Our hostess brought it quickly and thanked me for such a generous tip.

"I think we better get heading home," the dark-haired man stated with a yawn.

Nate looked at his boyfriend in surprise. "Surely we shouldn't leave Mr. Jeevas all alone since-"

"It's alright," I mumbled. "Happy birthday, kid, and I'll see you around."

Even though he looked uncertain, Nate had enough sense to follow Gevanni's lead. "Thank you for the drinks."

I waved them off and kept my smile glued on until they had left the building. Alone in my booth, I looked over at the other patrons inside the pub. No one cared about me; they were all busy drowning their sorrows with fire water, wishing their troubles away. But I wasn't complaining. It was what I was about to do. Rubbing my temples, I sighed before I began disappearing into the stupor of alcohol.

~_~_~_~_~_

"I hate mornings," I groaned pathetically as I stumbled about my apartment. Clothes had to be put on, but first they needed to be found. Colorful words slipped through my lips as I realized that I forgot to wash my clothes again. I was going to need some coffee.

Walking into the small kitchen, my eyes fell onto my set of glasses and coffee cups. They were all lined up on the counter, each one of them filled to the brim was water from the tap. In recent years, I had developed some obsessive tendencies. Sadly, I knew what was causing my behavioral problems, but I didn't stop it. I was afraid of forgetting. After fourteen years, I was finding it hard to come up with new ways of remembering her. It wasn't that I had forgotten about her, but I was scared that I would. Each empty glass had mocked me, reminding me of what I would be like if I forgot my Mello. I didn't want to forget!

The headache was building up again, so I turned my attention to my newest coffee maker. Once the pot was set, I took my clothes hamper and made my way down to the washer and dryer. It was six in the morning, so the laundry room was empty. Sitting down on a chair, I closed my eyes and just listened to the junky machine rattling.

"Morning, Mels," I yawned. "Today's the first day of class again. Do you remember what it was like for us? Our first day of high school, I mean. You were nervous. Of course, you were trying to be all macho and tough, but I could tell. I really should have comforted you."

Time passed slowly as I waited for a pair of clean clothes. My days would always start like this, with my talking to her. And then they would end the same way, with my drinking myself into a dreamless sleep. If I drank too much, the nightmares would haunt me, sending me into hysterics, but if I didn't drink enough those memories would flit back. They would tease and taunt me, reminding me of what a horrible person I was. Even now, I couldn't decide which was worse. So, being the coward I had always been, I ran. If I couldn't be strong enough to handle my dreams, then I was going to run the hell away.

By seven o'clock, I was dressed and working my way through a second cup of coffee. The high school I worked at wasn't too far, so I opted to walk. For all the abuse my body was taking, the least I could do was take a damn walk to be "healthy". It didn't matter that my smoking while walking was counteracting all possible benefits.

Like a specter rising from the horizon, the school made its way into my line of vision. Tall gates threatened against trespassers while offering sanctuary to those held within. Perfectly manicured lawns would soon be trampled by hundreds of feet, and everything that was fresh and beautiful would look tired and used by the end of the school year. Even the teachers were like that. I was like that.

"You look a mess," a familiar voice teased.

"Halle, go to hell."

"Tch, you smell like the dryer. Did you forget to wash your clothes until morning again?"

"So what if I did?"

Her boisterous laugh rang out through the mostly empty halls. "What about all that bull-shit you tell your students? About making schedules and completing tasks…"

"Those who can, do," I recited as my eyes wandered aimlessly, "and those who can't, council."

"You're such a role model, you know that?"

"And I'd rather die of an infection than let you touch any of my wounds." Yes, Halle Lidner who was better known for her years in an all-girl's gang was the school nurse. On account of the fact that most of my students would come in bruised and abused, we had developed quite a close relationship.

"Good, because I wouldn't want to waste any of my supplies on a bum like you."

Before I had a chance to attack back, a flash of gold streaked around the corner of the hall. Strands of blond hair vanished around the corner before disappearing completely. For some reason, I felt sick to my stomach and my heart began to race. No, it wasn't her, it was just some student that happened to have blond hair fooling around. Still, the feeling wasn't leaving, it only got worse.

"E-excuse me," I mumbled to Halle before making a beeline for the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on my face made me feel somewhat better, but it still hurt. I was such a fucking idiot. All these years and I still felt that stupid hope that somehow I would see her again. "Get a grip," I whispered to my reflection. My blue eyes looked so dull and expressionless and my pale face looked sickly. If I didn't get myself together, I would be in no condition to help the unfortunate students who needed comfort and a listening ear. Nodding, I decided that I would go run a lap around the building.

The Shadow of Death, as a lap around the school grounds was known, was something that I had come up with my first year as a councilor. Hearing all the heart-breaking stories of each student and all their struggles had become overwhelming. I knew that it was my duty to hear them out and to help them, so I found a way to clear my mind of everything. I had been so full of pent frustrations that I decided to run it out. Not being particularly athletic, I never really managed a full lap of running, but the experience was successful. In between trying to catch my breath and not passing out, I had no time to worry or stress or even think. It was some much needed alone time, and once I found that it worked for me, I suggested it to any of my students that felt the same way. By now, it was almost a ritual. I began the school year with a run and I ended the year with a run. Of course, there was a whole lot of running in between, but the first and last were the most important.

With a deep inhale of nicotine, I began the jog. The cool morning air felt good against my skin and I knew the route so well that I was able to run with my eyes closed for some of the way. My legs were burning and my lungs were working hard, but it still felt good in a masochistic kind of way. The sound of breathing besides mine shook me out of my trance, but when I opened my eyes, I was pleased to see a few of my students from last school year. Kimberley smiled widely as she ran beside her girlfriend Nicole, and my transgender student Max nodded his head. We were in this together. Running with them, the ground seemed to fly under my feet.

"Whew!!" I gasped as we stood at the front entrance of the school nearly 15 minutes later with our hands on our knees and our heads hanging low. My kids just giggled as best as they could. "G-good to see you guys. Bleh."

"You…almost made…a full lap!" Kimberley exclaimed. "Who knows…maybe you'll do…do it this year."

"Too much faith (cough). You guys have too much faith."

"If you quit smoking, y-ou'd be fine," Max chided.

"W-water!" Nicole squealed. Looking up, we saw Halle heading over to us with some bottles of water. She had a knowing grin on her face and handed out the treat.

"Welcome back, kiddoes. Welcome back."

~_~_~_~_~_

"So, Dan is still getting shit from his mom?" I questioned as I looked across the desk at Blaine. Only a sophomore, he was the baby of my group for now. It would be a few more days before any freshmen would trickle in.

"Yeah! She's such a bitch!"

"Tch, language. You don't like it when people call you a faggot, so you shouldn't call people names, regardless if they deserve it."

With a sigh, he nodded. "You're right. Sorry."

"It's okay. I understand you being upset, and that's normal. You want to protect him, but you feel that you can't?"

"That's exactly it. I'm worthless! I can't do anything for him! All summer long, I had fun going on dates with him and stuff, but I didn't even realize that his mom was giving him shit about it all the time. He got so stressed out, but he still went out with me."

"Doesn't that count for something?" I pressed.

"Yeah! I know that I love him and that he loves me, but I want to help him."

Questions like this were common in my line of work. Each student wanted to help their significant other, but since they were nothing but children they felt helpless. It was as if they didn't have a say or even truly existed until they became "adults" when they turned eighteen. A group of girls flocked past my office, giggling and squealing about all kinds of nonsense that girls usually talked about. Blaine rolled his eyes and we both shared a good laugh.

By the time lunch came around, I was feeling better. I was falling back into a routine, into my designated role. While at work, I didn't have time to think or depress myself. There were children that needed guidance or even just a shoulder to cry on, and I focused all of my energy providing that for them. Sitting at my usual table with Halle, we watched the teenagers carrying on like the children that they were. Cliques were established and tables were claimed on the hectic first day. The nerds bowed to the power of the jocks, but they stood firm against the artists. Cheerleaders tried to get in a position to best flirt with the jocks and the Goths tried to be dark and mysterious in a group furthest from the rest of the student body. Things like that didn't often change between each class.

"Same old, same old," Halle mumbled around her egg salad sandwich.

"Uh, your breath is going to smell bad after eating that,"

"Thank you, Matt. I'd be lost without you."

Almost suddenly, the atmosphere shifted in the room. It was as if someone had just tipped the scales of balance within the school. Whispers began to flit through the room at an alarming rate and I found myself getting agitated again. "What's going on?" I whispered, not being able to see anything.

Halle stared at a group of students that had seemed to gather and shrugged. The other faculty seemed to be on edge as well, but none of them made a move. If the students weren't doing anything wrong, then they didn't want to interfere. "I guess it's the freshmen."

"That can't be it," I pressed. "Oh for goodness sake, you hear all the gossip! What's going on?"

She raised her eyebrow at my reaction. "Is something wrong, Matt?"

"No!" I snapped. "I just want to know what's going on. It's my job."

Not looking like she believed a word I said, she turned her attention back to the group that seemed to be moving closer to the front of the cafeteria. "Well, there's been some talk about a certain new student. She just moved here from Russia, and her family family's pretty rich from what I hear."

"Why'd she move here?" Who on earth would want to move to a place like this, especially if they were rich? Besides, weren't rich girls supposed to be in prep schools or something like that?

"I don't know. It's just what I've been hearing."

"Weird." And how odd that one person was responsible for disrupting the natural flow of things. People from every clique were drawn to her, forgetting that they were supposed to clash. She had just managed to mix water and oil by her presence alone. Unfortunately, the crowd of students didn't disperse and I never got a chance to catch a glimpse of this girl.

~_~_~_~_~_

I was going crazy. I mean, literally insane.

Ever since school started a few weeks ago, my sanity had begun to chip away. First it was the strange moments of longing and sadness. I would be anxious over nothing and then it would pass a few hours later. Then, the hallucinations came. I started to see her. Every blond haired kid was setting me off, and I could just imagine her turning around to tease me about something. Or kiss me. Halle had given me a check-up, but nothing seemed to be wrong with me. I even fucking quit smoking, but nothing was working. I was getting worse, and I had no idea how to stop it.

"Melo!" a girl screamed down the hall while I was in the middle of counseling. I had shoved my chair back and raced to the door to look down the hall before I even realized what I was doing. "You're so MELODRAMATIC!!!" a chorus of laughter followed.

"Mr. Jeevas? Are you okay?"

I realized that I was clutching the doorframe as if it were my life line. "I-I'm okay." Shit, this had gone far enough if even my kids could tell something was up. Looking at the picture of me and Mello, I felt like bursting into tears. I needed her right now to tell me that everything was okay and that I wasn't crazy. But she was gone and I was going crazy. "Can I talk to you later?" I asked, rubbing my temples. "I'm really sorry, I just…" What, was I going to tell him the truth? No, I was the adult and I had to be stronger. "I just need to get my bearings."

Max nodded and gave me a concerned look before walking out. If things didn't get any better, I was going to have to see a professional.

~_~_~_~_~_

"Matt, you've been doing a great job," Mrs. Kingfisher started as we took a walk around the building. She was the one who had hired me all those years ago and had become a kind of mentor to me in the years that followed. "All of us appreciate all the work you put into making life better for the kids. You're persistent and completely undaunted by any challenge. We all see that."

I stared at my coffee mug. It was half-empty, and the guilt was squeezing my heart. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, nothing of the sort. It's just that…well, we've all noticed that you've been looking stressed out. You look sickly and your work has been suffering lately. We're worried about you, and would really hate it if you had to quit. All these children look up to you and you're been such a support to them. If you need some time off for yourself, we understand it and the students would understand."

Those weren't the words I wanted or needed to hear. If I were to leave my work, it would just mean more time alone, more time to think about my failures and to think about all those painful memories. Closing my eyes, I realized what I was thinking. I was trying to forget her. I was trying to drown myself in work so that I wouldn't have time to think about her. After all my promises to never forget, I was desperately trying to. What kind of horrible person was I? Why couldn't I just be strong?!

Opening my eyes, I glanced at the pack of girls standing around their lockers. They were chatting away happily, free from all worries and stresses. Boys and manicures, that's all that they had to worry about. None of them ever suffered the nightmares of stumbling across the cold body of their murdered lover. None of them ever had to live life suffering from guilt and shame. I did, but I still hadn't become better. No, I was the same as that stupid teenager who had let his beloved Mello run into the arms of a murderer who was never caught.

Turquoise eyes.

My blood froze as those turquoise eyes caught mine. Blond hair, pale skin, slender body, full lips. Everything went silent when my coffee mug slipped out of my numb fingers and crashed to the floor, spilling its contents at my feet. I was walking to her and she was walking to me, both of us ignoring everything else. It was like walking through water, as if each step was weighed down and heavy. Slowly, one step at a time. She looked confused, but unafraid as her fashionable shoes clicked against the tile. As if there were a temporal rip in the time and space continuum, I was suddenly standing in front of her. I wondered if I had finally lost it. My shaking hand reached out and touched her shoulder. Warmth. She was real.

Her head tilted to the side delicately and her wide eyes gazed at me. "I…was looking for you."

It was like everything that had been building up just erupted. I was crying like I did fourteen years ago, crying like when I found Mello's body, crying like I did in Beyond's arms after graduation. I wanted thinking about her to be enough, but it had never been. My arms were wrapped around her waist, refusing to let go and my face was buried in her neck as I, the full grown adult, cried.

"Shhh," she soothed, stroking the back of my neck. "Shhhhh."

~_~_~_~_~_

It was like high school all over again. Me and the blond girl were sitting in the principal's office waiting for him to figure out what to do with us. My unprofessional breakdown in the middle of the hall had been quite embarrassing and no one seemed to know what to do, especially since I had been crying on a student's shoulder. The young lady seemed completely unaffected by the chaos swirling around her, and just sitting next to her I felt a little more grounded. My aching eyes stole a quick glance at her and I felt my heart leap up into my throat. Bloody hell, she looked so much like Mello!

Principal Roland finally walked in. He was a pretty affable guy and we had always gotten along, so I wasn't worried about him being a jerk or unfair to either one of us. I could tell that he was pretty confused and he didn't exactly know what to do with us. "Mr. Jeevas?"

"Yes?" I sniffled, wiping at my nose with a tissue. Man, I hadn't cried like that in such a long time.

"I'm sorry, but I'm still confused as to what happened in the hall an hour ago. Can you explain that to me?"

Wiping my eyes, I felt a little embarrassed. The fact that I had been crying all over a high schooler was lame. "Well, sir, I just…uh. You've no doubt heard about why I, uh, got involved with counseling, and when I saw…" I looked at the blond and realized that I didn't have a clue who she was.

"Misha," she offered, staring intently into my eyes.

"Misha," I echoed breathlessly. It rolled off my tongue so easily, as if that name were meant just for her.

"It means 'Who is like God?'" she added, never taking her eyes off mine.

"Mr. Jeevas?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," I replied, snapping back to reality. Damn it, her eyes were just so much like Mello's; they just drew me in. "When I saw Misha, I suffered a flashback." It was even more embarrassing to be talking about such a thing with her sitting next to me. "I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again."

He nodded his head and I saw his eyes soften a little. Most of the faculty around here knew of my situation and where I came from. It had been necessary for them to know considering that I had psychological break downs in my record. It wasn't usually acceptable to hire a counselor who had been threatened with a mental institution, but I had been adamant. "I understand. Now, if you don't mind, Miss Khanina, I would like you to head back to class. I apologize on Mr. Jeevas's behalf and hope that you won't be bothered."

"He didn't bother me at all," she stated assertively. "Can I see you again?" she asked turning her attention back to me.

I was taken aback, but before I could even think of how to answer that, my mouth replied. "Yes."

A blinding smile curled on her lips and with a flourish, she was out of her chair and sweeping out of the office. The principal and I just stared at the door in wonder before looking at each other. "Do you know her?" he asked even though the answer was obvious.

"No. I've never seen her before."

~_~_~_~_~_

Walking back to my office, I wondered if maybe I was just tired. It was entirely possible that I had been stressing myself out this entire time, worrying over stupid things. There was no way that I was intentionally trying to forget Mello, and things would soon fall back into a normal predictable routine. Except that it didn't.

"Who's this?" asked a particularly strong-willed blond who was sitting on my desk as she examined my photo of Mello.

My mouth dropped open before I found myself struggling to get the picture out of her grasp. "Don't touch other people's things!"

"But I wanted to see! Tell me who she is!"

"It's none of your business!" I snarled as I finally tugged the frame out of her hands. After a quick examination to make sure that it wasn't damaged, I pulled the picture close to my heart and turned my body away from her. "Now what the hell are you doing in my office?"

Looking a little put-out, she tossed her hair and crossed her arms. "It's none of your business."

"Y-yes it is!" I sputtered. "It's my office!"

"Well, aren't you the school councilor?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Council me."

Was she joking? Sitting there on top of my desk with her chin up haughtily and her legs crossed and perched on my chair showing off…bloody hell, I could see her panties. Turning around discreetly, I debated on what to do with her. However, it was a little difficult considering that I couldn't get me mind off her damn perfect legs and her black underwear. Fuck, I was like a perverted old man, now.

"Listen, you need to go to class now."

"Nope."

"What?! Hey, I'm the adult here, and you need to listen to me!"

"My parents tried that too," she replied as I heard her hop off my desk, "but they learned, and you will too."

She brushed past me and headed to the door without looking back, but I felt a shudder. That was a threat, and I was a little afraid to see how she planned to go through with it.

~_~_~_~_~_

"Misha?! Are you okay?" Having just got to school, I was surprised to see her sitting in front of my office. Even more surprising was that she was crying, with sobs that shook her delicate body. Her tear filled eyes looked up at me and my heart broke as I saw her lower lip trembling.

"I…I…" and then she burst into tears all over again. It took me all of three seconds to get my office opened and to usher her inside.

"Here sit down. Do you want some chocolate? It's really soothing." With a small nod, she held out her hand and I handed her some of the chocolate I always kept in a drawer. That treat was like a magic cure for people who were upset. No wonder Mello was addicted to it. "There, just let it melt on your tongue, okay?"

"Mr. J-jeevas? Am, am I a s-sex toy?"

"What?!" Her question brought a blush to my face, but I felt a little more protective of her. She was absolutely stunning, and it wouldn't be surprising if someone tried to make a move on her. However, if they took it too far, I was going to have to settle that matter. "Who said that to you?"

"Well, it's just…" She wiped her eyes once more with a tissue and shoved all the chocolate into her mouth.

"Listen, whoever said that to you was absolutely wrong," I replied firmly. "And if anyone dared to say something like that, you need to tell me. That's completely unacceptable and I won't let anyone hurt you like that! You're beautiful, strong, perfect, and I-"

She had looked up at me surprised and I caught myself. What the hell was I saying? Misha wasn't Mello! I couldn't talk to her like that, it was wrong. Just like forcing the identity of a boy on Mello, it wouldn't be fair to force Mello's identity on Misha.

"Matt-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted, looking down at my hands. "That was inappropriate."

"It's okay. I wanted to hear that, to see if that's what you felt."

Okay, what the hell? I looked up to see her wiping away all traces of tears. "Hunh?"

She smiled sweetly and slipped out of her chair to stand next to me. "Don't you remember what I said when I first met you?" My heart was racing, pounding excitedly against my chest. How long had it been since I had felt this way? Leaning down, her nose barely brushed against mine and those eyes stared into my wide confused eyes, searching for something. "I've been looking for you, for so long."

My eyes slid shut as I leaned forward. It wasn't really kissing, but more like a questioning touch of the lips. I knew that touch, the softness. Then my hand was touching that hair, longer but not so different. More cared for, just like she was.

She pulled back and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "We can talk later. Oh, and no one said anything to me, I just wanted to get you to talk to me." With a sassy wink, she was gone.

"What the fuck?"

~_~_~_~_~_

The next day, I was prepared. Misha wasn't going to trick me this time. I had been beating myself up all night for kissing her, and now I was resolved to ignore her come-ons. For crying out loud, she was a minor! I had kissed a fucking minor! Ugh, I would have nightmares about that. At least, I would if I didn't intentionally avoid dreams.

Still, something was bothering me. Why did she keep on insisting that she was "looking for me"? I mean, I've never seen her in my entire life! She's never seen me! So how the hell was she looking for me? She doesn't have a fucking clue who I am. Biting my lip, I looked over at my treasure. A lump formed in my throat as I examined Mello's beautiful face. There was a certain weariness to her eyes, but she was happy. There was no doubt in my mind. She was happy in that picture. It didn't even take me all of a week to destroy that for her, to destroy her.

"Sorry, Mells," I mumbled, stroking the flat image of her. "I should have told you that I loved you sooner. Should have protected you." The guilt was overwhelming.

"Mr. Jeevas?" A young delicate looking girl peeked around the corner of the doorframe and I found myself smiling. She was a new one.

"Yes? Please, come in. You can sit anywhere you like." Normalcy. I was doing my job.

Things fell back into place quickly, but I couldn't help but feel a little worried. Misha hadn't made an appearance yet, but if I knew anything about her personality, she wasn't through with me yet. Paranoia tried creeping up on me, but I swallowed it back, hoping that I could avoid any trouble. Sure, in my head I was ready to take her on, to show her that I wasn't going to be pushed around, but little by little, my confidence was falling apart. Every second that she didn't walk in that door gave me time to analyze myself. Was I really going to stop her? Could I? Even more disturbing, did I want to? And still, even as I tormented myself, she didn't show up.

"I…could be completely wrong," I mumbled to myself. Really, was I misunderstanding everything? I was under the impression that Misha had some kind of crush on me, but what if I was wrong? Still, no one would act that way if they weren't attracted to me!!! Then again, I did burst out into tears the first time we met…maybe she thinks that I need someone to take care of me? Is she really just trying to protect me? But I'm the adult! I should be the one taking care of her! "Girls," I grumbled, dropping my head to the desk. "They're way more trouble than they're worth. Except Mello. She's worth more. Okay, I need to quit talking to myself."

"Yeah, talking to yourself isn't healthy." Nearly jumping straight out of my seat, I finally noticed Misha standing right next to my chair. "How're you doing, Mattie?" she asked with a sweet smile.

I felt sick hearing that name again, but I tried not letting it show. "Misha, I think that we need to have a talk."

"Oooh, that sounds ominous."

"Take this seriously!" I snapped. "Look, this isn't some kind of game."

Her expression didn't betray any of her feelings; she was unreadable. "I know. I never said that this was a game."

Sigh. "Close the door, and pull up a chair."

Popping a square of chocolate into her mouth, she casually walked over and carried out my orders. Examining her body language, I found that I still couldn't get an accurate feel for her. She carried herself confidently, but that was about all I could see. It seemed like that was all she would allow me to see. Now, if I, a seasoned professional councilor, couldn't read her, that meant that she knew what she was doing. She was intentionally hiding something. Taking her time, Misha dragged a chair closer to my desk and sat on it with the grace of a non-existent fairy. Well, more like a mischievous pixie.

"So, let's talk," she commanded, leaning back in her chair.

Her intense stare was making me uncomfortable, but I had a job to do. No matter how insecure I was or how little faith I had in myself, I had to push her away. It was my duty to protect her. "Misha, what exactly do you want? I mean, I think I'm reading the signs correctly, but I still want to hear it from you. Why are you here?"

"That's such a vague question," she replied softly, her face even more blank. "Why am I in this country? This city? This school? Your office?"

"Well, I-"

"It's all the same answer," she interrupted, eyes never looking away from mine. My stomach began to clench and the heavy weight in my chest was back. I found myself leaning towards her. "You. I'm here because of you."

"That doesn't even make sense," I pleaded. Wait, why the hell was I begging? What was I begging for her to do?

Frustration in her eyes couldn't be held back. "Damn it, do you think that I'm fucking around!" She was on her feet, towering over me with eyes flashing like lighting. "Do you think that I would randomly drag my ass away from Russia to come to some no-name school for the heck of it?! It's all your fault!"

It was like being in high school all over again. Seeing those tears welling up was paralyzing, I was helpless. "M-misha…"

"Do you think it's easy to dream about these things, to have these thoughts haunting me every second?!" She grabbed both of the armrests of my chair and drew closer to me. "I…I can't do it alone anymore," Misha whispered.

There wasn't an ounce of lies in her eyes, there was no deception in her desperation. "You don't need to be alone," I whispered, still confused and hurting.

"I punched you in the face in kindergarten," she urged, nails digging into the cheap material of the armrests. "You wanted to finger paint with me, and I punched you." All the color drained from my face. No, there was no way that she could know… "Then it was the swings. You asked if you could push me so that I could go higher. I punched you again! Your nose was bleeding and you still fucking smiled at me!"

"Misha, s-stop."

"No! You were always butting into my business and following me around! I hated it, you were like a puppy, my puppy! Daddy killed my puppy because he said I didn't deserve anything that nice, and I didn't want Daddy to kill you! But you didn't fucking get it!" She was in tears now, pushing, digging into my wounds. "Then you got all sad because you had sisters to take care of. You couldn't stay afterschool with me anymore. It became lonely without you, and I knew it was wrong but I decided to let you in a little! Damn it I knew it would hurt, but I-"

"STOP!!!!" I couldn't take it anymore. Pushing her out of the way, I ran out of my office and out of the school. Home, I needed to go home.

~_~_~_~_~_

Thirty two messages on my answering machine. Halle's panicked voice, the concerned principle, my kids…all day long, my phone was ringing. Even my cell phone had been constantly buzzing around. I hadn't changed my clothes for the past few days. All I could do was drain my supply of alcohol and puke my guts out.

BEEP. "Mr. Jeevas? This is Near. I…I heard that you haven't been at work and didn't call in. Are you okay? I mean, obviously you're not…but you can talk to me, if you want. I, uh, well, there are a lot of worried people. Please. We need you back. Um, I guess I'll call again a little…later." BEEP.

Looking at the bottle in my hand, it took me a while to accept the fact that I was out of drinks. I would have to get up and go out to buy some more. "Th-this isn't funny," I croaked, my bloodshot eyes glaring at the empty bottle. "My l-life is not…is not a joke." How did Misha know those things? How could she say those things so honestly? My own family didn't know that Mello was the one who punched my daylights out in kindergarten. And then she went and said "I punched you." She didn't punch me. Mello punched me. I knew that Mello hated dogs; she couldn't even look at them, but I didn't know why. So why the hell did I feel like Misha was telling the truth, that Nicolai Keehl would kill an innocent pet just to hurt his daughter.

Dropping the bottle, I wasn't bothered by the fact that I heard it shatter against the hardwood floor. Stumbling to my feet, I forced myself to grab my wallet and my keys. It took a few minutes of leaning against the wall in order to get my bearings, but I wasn't in any rush. I couldn't be bothered with closing the door behind me as I stepped out into the crisp autumn air. Leaves were bleeding down the streets, wind agitating them. Walking, I just walked and walked. I knew where I was going, but it was all a blur. My credit was good, so buying a plane ticket with my Mastercard was easy. Sitting in a seat by the window I could lose myself in the clouds.

There was a bus and some more walking, but I finally reached my destination. Standing in front of a modest country home I felt like a child all over again. My hand knocked against the solid oak door, and I wondered if they would even be home. Traveling all around the globe had always been a hobby of theirs and-

"Hello? Oh, Matt?" Almost looked quite surprised to see me. A few strands of silver peeked out from his well kept ponytail and his timid eyes looked me over. "Are…you okay?"

I must have looked like hell. "B. I need to see Professor B."

"Of course, come on in. He's visiting with his brother, but feel free to have a seat. Those two are probably still arguing." He chuckled, but when I didn't react, he went silent, leaving awkwardness between us.

The house was nice and organized, two things that I never put together with Beyond. In school he had always been disorganized and unkempt, so imagining him in such a clean environment was almost amusing. Once the both of us stepped into the living room, I found myself even more surprised. Sitting opposite of each other were two nearly identical men. If I wasn't so familiar with my old professor, I wouldn't have been able to tell them apart. That, and some strange brunette man was sitting next to who I assumed was B's brother. Golden eyes barely spared me a glance before returning to a thick book. His perfectly manicured hand was resting suggestively on the other man's lap making me shake my head.

B looked over and his eyes widened. "Matt? You look like you got hit by a train."

"Hey there," I replied wearily.

"Hmm, well, Matt, this is my dearest idiot of a brother, Lawliet."

"If I'm the idiot, that would make you the moron," Lawliet replied blandly, reaching over for a slice of cake. I wasn't sure why there was an entire cake on their coffee table, but whatever.

"Yes, as you can see, he thinks quite highly of himself. He's even gotten himself a little Asian trophy wife."

"I can speak English too, you know," the "trophy wife" responded irritably.

"Did you hear something?" B asked, ignoring the younger man. "Hmmm, it must have been the wind, because we all know that trophy wives aren't supposed to speak."

Lawliet chuckled in amusement and his lover swatted him. "L, don't let him talk to me that way!"

"Ah, but it's not all about you," B responded before L or Lawliet or whoever the hell that guy was could answer. "Now, what brings you over here during the school period when you should be counseling and looking so fucked up?"

Looking down at my dirty hands, I felt even more foolish. What was I going to say, "Some high school girl was telling me things about Mello and I don't know what to do?" Yeah, that wouldn't sound crazy at all. "M-mello."

Saying that single word drew all the cheerfulness out of my old professor. Even Almost looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, that's…unexpected. Lawliet, could you forgive me and cut our talk short?"

L looked surprised, but nodded. He glanced over me with cold grey eyes, leaving me with the feeling that I had just been scanned by a mind-reading machine before hopping off the couch. "Come along, Light-kun."

Light stood up stiffly and followed his lover out the door. The bastard didn't even spare a second glance at me. My feet shuffled to the recently abandoned couch, and I fell back heavily on it. Almost slipped out of the room, leaving me and B alone. I let my blue eyes wander over his hunched form. Time had been quite pleasant to him, leaving him practically unmarred and untouched with the curse of white hair. That or he dyed his hair and used lots of anti-aging cream.

"So what's this about Mello?" he prodded, frowning at the half-eaten cake on the coffee table before looking back up to my face. "It's been fourteen years and for some reason you still look like his funeral was just yesterday. I didn't leave you looking like that."

No, he hadn't. Beyond had stayed close with me, refusing to move until he was sure that I was stable. I had spent several months with him just to recover and he had selflessly cared for me. Now, I was back and looking for even more help. Why couldn't I just help myself?

"I'm scared." It was the honest truth. I couldn't lie to the face of the man I respected the most. "I've been struggling with remembering Mello…it's not that I want to forget, and I'm not trying to forget, but…I don't know. I feel emptier than ever."

"Did something happen?"

Misha. She happened. "It's like…I've suddenly been reminded of her, of things that—it just hurts too much. I'm so tired of always hurting."

B looked up at his ceiling, the same whiteness that reminded me of a lazy day in bed. "Things aren't supposed to be easy, Matt. That's why it's life. Things are going to hurt, it's going to suck."

"But I'm exhausted," I whispered. "I've spent fourteen years mourning and tearing myself apart. I know that I could have saved her, and every second of every fucking minute I hate myself for that. I didn't protect the most important thing in my life."

His eyes never left the light fixture on the ceiling. "…is beating yourself up going to bring Mello back?"

"No."

"Is crying over her going to bring her back?"

"…no."

"What can bring her back?" I knew the answer, but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't fair. "Nothing, Matt. Absolutely nothing. You'll never see her again. Even if she were to reincarnate or something supernatural like that, she'll never be exactly the same. You aren't even the same. Are you the person she fell in love with?"

"No, I'm…not."

Finally turning his glance towards me, I could see that his eyes were a bit misty. "Do you want to go through the rest of your life as a stranger that she wouldn't be even able to recognize or do you want to be the man she loved?"

"But I can't be like that anymore! I'm not a kid, I'll never be that again!"

He nodded slowly. "It's true that people always change, but I'll ask you in a different way. How do you plan on remembering Mello? Are you going to do it by dragging yourself to ruin or are you going to do it by making her proud? When you face her in the afterlife, will she be impressed or devastated?"

"She'd be pissed," I murmured. "Do you believe in…the afterlife or reincarnation?"

He shrugged. "I've not seen proof for either of those, but I've never seen them disproved either. You might say that I have an open mind on the subject."

Looking down to my mud-spattered boots, I thought back to Misha. If I was being completely rational, I'd have to acknowledge that there was no earthly way that she could know about the things she told me. She was too young to have been around back then and no one else knew about that aspect of our lives. No earthly way. But…she had mentioned something about dreams and memories haunting her. What if—what if she really was Mello? Was it completely crazy to think that maybe whoever was the higher being realized that he/she had made a mistake and gave Mello another chance?

Sighing, I knew that even if that wasn't the case, she was in pain. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She had been begging for me to help her, and I had brushed her aside. "I'm such a child," I mumbled. "I guess I haven't changed all that much."

"Still a brat," B added before leaning back against his recliner, both knees firmly pressed against his chest. "Now, don't you have a job to be doing?"

A weak smile made it to my lips. "Yeah. Can I get dinner and some sleep first?"

"Of course."

~_~_~_~_~_

"I'm going to kill you. Dead." Halle had her fist bared, but I just laughed at her. Seeing her all worked up had really done my heart some good.

"Sorry, sorry!"

"Apologies aren't good enough!"

She seemed to relax a bit as I laughed and fought off her attempts to decapitate me. Once I got back, my pay was docked for scaring the shit out of everyone, but I was allowed back. I assured my bosses that I wouldn't ever do anything like that again, and things slipped back into place. It had already been a week and Halle was still pissed with me, but more importantly, Misha hadn't come to see me at all. I had caught a glimpse of her in the hall, but she never acknowledged my presence. She only walked past, her eyes empty. Even her smiles seemed hollow.

I had taken the time to look up her files and what I found had given me chills. Misha Khanina, fourteen years old, had been born the exact day that I lost my Mello. She was quite a driven young lady and was a proven genius. Her grades were flawless and her attitude was fiery. For the first twelve years of her life, Misha had lived in Russia with her wealthy parents, but for some reason she convinced them to move to America. Oddly, she had spent all her years in America bouncing from high school to high school, city to city, until she arrived here. It really was as if she had been looking for something…for someone. Even more chilling was the fact that the first high school she had attended in America was none other than my old alma mater.

Walking to the roof for a smoke, I was a little surprised to find her sitting against the protective fence, gazing forlornly towards the horizon. It wasn't hard to superimpose an image of Mello on her and I found the similarities too close to be an accident. This wasn't a coincidence or some random encounter. Even before I had met her, I knew that she was looking for me. I felt it.

"Hey."

Aquamarine eyes pulled away from the scenery to look at me. "Hey," she echoed.

Sitting next to her, I pulled out my cigarette and proceeded to light up. "How're you doing?"

"Don't patronize me," she snapped, turning away from me.

"Alright then. Do you want to talk about your dreams?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her worrying her lower lip. I had already hurt her, so why should she trust me? Then again, she was so tortured, she needed to release. "Don't talk. I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to say anything until I'm done. Okay?"

"It's a deal," I conceded.

We looked at each other for a few seconds, before she looked to the ground with a faint blush on her cheeks. Then she started. I didn't want to hear the words that were coming out of her mouth. I didn't want to hear about our lives, the private moments between me and Mello. As long as she could remember, she had been dreaming about this other life. She was an unhappy boy abused by her father, befriended by an annoying an insistent brunette. And she grew up with that boy. For fourteen years, she had dreamed of a double life, one that mimicked her own and yet was so very different. But there was always that boy, a boy that she grew to love.

"I couldn't get you out of my mind," she murmured, holding herself tightly. "I didn't know who you were or where you were, but I had to find you. The memories started coming during the day too, insisting that I do something. Matt, I…I would have gone crazy if I didn't find you."

Releasing a breath of smoke I closed my eyes. My heart felt like a raw mutilated piece of flesh, freely bleeding within my shell of a body. But however I felt, I couldn't imagine how she felt. To have lived like this for all these years, alone and unable to understand things. I still wasn't sure how it was possible, but here I was with my life staring me in the face. Not a single thing she said had been wrong.

"I know that this sounds crazy," she sighed, looking up to the sky. A jet was flying overhead, leaving behind a trail of vapor to mark its past. "But what am I supposed to do? Ever since I got here I feel a lot more comfortable, but seeing you hurts me just as much as it makes me happy."

"So you don't know anything about me and Mello past fourteen years?"

"That's right. My dream is like one day in the life of this Mello."

That meant that she didn't know how our relationship ended. She still had time before dreaming about that. "That picture in my office is of Mello."

"I kind of guessed that, but I wanted to know for sure. She was beautiful."

I let the comment hang in the air between us for a moment.

"You're beautiful too."

Those brilliant eyes looked at me with shock and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. It was a small step, one that I knew we would have to make. It didn't mean that I knew what was going to be in our future, but I felt that this was the right thing to do.

"Thanks…Mail."

If it were up to me
I'd jump out into the sea
End it all just to be
Laughing with you happy and free

Holding each other in arms so tight
As if together we'd never have another night
Waking up, I'd see the light
Wish I may, wish I might

In the darkness of space
Eternity spent in your embrace
Memories flit past your face
A dream that I can only chase.

Author's Notes: Yes, I'm quite aware that I FAIL at updating in a timely manner. Really, I suck. T^T Hopefully, you'll all forgive me. Eventually. Now, if you missed it at the beginning, check out the links to fanart for Athenae and send flamablechoklit a nice PM. And as always, feel free to review. You can point out spelling/grammar errors, plot holes, etc. or you can just shower me with praises. XD Just kidding. But seriously, I hope that all of you who read this enjoyed it.

P.S. The name "Misha" is a female derivative of "Michael" which is where Mello's real name "Mihael" comes from. They all mean the same thing.