I remember the dream I had last night. I have not been able to recall many dreams before, but I knew this one was different. I remember sitting in the classroom, the one at the end of the hallway normally only used for studying. The Great Gatsby lay open in my lap, its pages worn. Page 79.
I remember feeling nothing as I stared blankly at the print. I don't think I was even reading. When I looked up he was there, sitting beside me at the small table. He was crying and it struck me that I had never seen Mello cry. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he brought up his hands to hide his face, ashamed. Soft sobs erupted from his throat and spilled out.
I remember then feeling his pain, as if I was gripped by a terrible beast that refused to relinquish me. I was horrified. I remember not being able to move, not being able to comfort him. The need to help him grew stronger as he trembled. I didn't know what he needed.
I couldn't help him.
Near jerked awake, the blankets sticking to his sweating body. The clock beside him flashed. Power was out. A bolt of lightening flashed across the sky, illuminating Near's large room for a moment. Following the light, the thunder sounded without missing a beat and the small detective let out a strangled cry before jerking the blankets over his head.
He wished now more than ever that he hadn't told Anthony or Stephan to go home and get some rest.
"One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi..." The thunder sounded again. It was too close. Hard droplets of rain pelted his window mercilessly, adding to Near's fear.
Slowly, as he pulled down the blankets, the room lit up again. Near blinked, swearing he saw a figure near the window, but when the room glowed once more, the shadow was gone.
He could feel the panic building in his chest as the realization struck that someone was in the head quarters. As he reached towards the cell phone on top of the dresser, a hand reached out the grab him. Near's eyes shot up and he stared at the blonde in front of him.
"Mello..."
Near's voice cracked. His eyes began adjusting to the dark now and he could make out the faint trace of a scar on half of the older boys face.
"Mello!!"
His arms shot up and wrapped around Mello's neck, clinging onto him. A few seconds ticked by before Mello wrapped his arms back around Near's small waist and held him close.
"Where have you been? It's been… years," Near spoke to Mello shakily. He could feel his heart pounding erratically. Near was usually known for keeping calm during tense situations, but at this time he felt overpowered by seeing Mello. It had been 6 years.
Mello couldn't open his mouth to speak as he held the trembling younger man. He was quite aware at the fact that he was gently holding his, for lack of a better word, enemy. This was the boy he had grown up with and despised for always beating him at everything.
Somehow... none of that mattered now. When the storm outside threatened Near's stability, Mello felt sorry for him. He remembered the times at Whammy's when Near would hide in the basement, a blanket over his head, trying to block out the loud noises the storm would cause.
"Near... I have to go," he whispered softly into his ear.
Mello felt Near tense in his arms and the small fingers curl into his leather vest. The blond closed his eyes and gently pried the boy off of him. He took the small hands into his own and stared into his defenseless eyes.
"Do your best Near..."
The white haired boy watched as Mello left the same way he came through the window, into the storm. He sank back onto the bed, wondering if he had dreamed the whole thing.
Once outside Mello jerked open the car door and dropped down beside Matt.
"Did you do it?" The goggled man asked.
Mello was silent, unable to speak for once.
"I couldn't. Just drive."
"But Mel-"
"I said drive!" Mello snapped at the man, tearing into his pockets for a piece of the sweet comforting bar inside. His hand touched upon a piece of paper and he tugged it from his pocket. At the top of the list, in a messy scrawl was written "Hit List" and just below that:
Near
He crumbled the paper into a ball and tossed it out the window as the car tore down the street.
~ fin ~