Walls Came Tumbling Down

Matt leaned up against the wall. The door was shut, fitted flat against the bars, as he had used the toilet half an hour before. He hadn't bothered opening it again. Lauren wasn't there and he had no desire to be watched by the security guard. At least not openly. He knew that cameras captured his every movement for unseen eyes. He chewed on the cuticle around his left thumb, hating being on show for these people; hating still more being left alone with his thoughts.

There was the paranoia; that Mello didn't just find a way to call him at will nor did he come. Matt had witnessed Mello fly across the Atlantic and undertake long car journeys at either end, while the intense agony of his burn injuries was still raw. There was stubborn, iron determination in that, but the goal had been enough. The goal patently wasn't enough now. There was also the suspicion, bordering upon certainty, that there was no way back for their relationship from this. Even if they could stay married, how would they react with each other? Would Mello be shaken and changed? There would be demands upon Matt. In some ways the slave contract was as much testimony to that, as it was reassurance that they had a future. Matt touched his collar, unable to see how Mello could even love him anymore. It had all gone too far.

There was the doubt. Matt wondered if he ought to be finding a way to break out of here; or else negotiate bail, make a deal or simply argue for his release. His life was in somebody else's hands; and it wasn't Mello's. The loss of control brought him to thoughts of cutting, but he refused to let that be observed by his peers. It had always been done in private. Mello needed him. Mello wanted him in Aberystwyth. Had that been an order? Was that only the knee-jerk reaction? Who knew what Mello wanted at this very moment in time.

More than anything, Matt picked over the events of that night, like it was a festering cerebral wound. He scrutinised his actions, and Mello's, and viewed them from every conceivable angle. He worried that he was insane and that he had done it after all. He had been angry with Mello. He'd felt butthurt and betrayed, with a smoldering resentment running throughout. Matt traipsed through the reasons why and considered his over-reaction. He tried and condemned himself a thousand times over. Then re-ran them and found himself innocent. It was confusing and unreal. He mithered it again, in his mind, weighing up every factor. He wanted Mello's version to balance against his own. He didn't have it.

He added the day of the black-out to the days of his incarceration and subtracted those remaining until the twenty days were up. CrashnBurn and Lauren would get the text message this time. The same that had ended his first imprisonment, strapped to a bed, during Mello's madness. What would they make of it? Lauren could dismiss it. She knew precisely where Matt was. CrashnBurn would hack through a replacement back-door into Matt's system and probably do as he did before. Wipe everything. Save everything to his own remote server. Matt supposed that Chrissie would refuse him access to a computer to warn his friend. He could tip off Lauren. He could tell her where to get a message to the EHC. Matt allowed himself a grim smile. He would send her to Twitter, where most of the inner sanctum messed around.

He contemplated suicide. He mused over his twenty points for marital harmony, as should be addressed from his draft slave contract. He found that he had none, but understood that he had better have the full complement before he came face to face with Mello. He faced the fact that he could be looking at the rest of his life in this cell. If Mello abandoned him. If his peers found him guilty. If it ever even came to trial, beyond this endless waiting. He thought about Neuron and smiled.

There was a loud rat-a-tat on the door and it swung a fraction inwards. It was not locked. He could not lock it without shoving something underneath. Matt looked up and waited. Lauren called out. "Mail, I have news about Mello."

Matt sauntered across and opened the door. He left a tiny smear of blood from the cut that he'd nibbled into his thumb. He hadn't even realised it was bleeding. He surveyed Lauren. "What?"

"He's being transferred to Wammy's House." She smiled. "That's a lot nearer."

"Is he well enough to be moved?" Matt asked.

Lauren gestured ignorance. "He must be."

Matt bowed his head. If Mello was well enough to be moved, then he could get out of bed. His absence spoke volumes. Mello didn't want to be here. Matt didn't blame him, but it hurt anyway. There could be a game being played here. Mello stringing him along until he could get him in court. Wanting him to suffer being alone with his thoughts, until a proper torture could be devised.

"Also Chrissie is really putting the pressure on Near to confirm a date when he would be available for your hearing." Lauren sighed. "They won't let you out. I tried. I pushed for you to be released under Mello's surety, but Chrissie said that you'd disappear into the ether and never come back."

Matt peered up, under his fringe, "Mello offered surety?"

"No." Lauren admitted. "But I'm positive that he would."

"Did anyone mention transferring me to Wammy's House?"

Lauren looked apologetic. "I'm so sorry." Her eyes followed him, as he turned away and sat at the foot of the bed. "But they have a programme to wean you off Seroxat."

Matt heard that as a stab. He lit a cigarette and stared at the floor. "If I refuse that?"

"They are supplying the Seroxat."

Matt raised his eyes and fixed them upon her. He gave her a faint smile, knowing that she would grasp the inference. Lauren sighed and turned away. It wasn't exactly a promise to sneak extra medication to him, but neither did she outright refuse. Then again, he hadn't outright asked. He watched her sit down on a chair. She propped her chin up with her hand, leaning on the little table. She looked irritated and a little bored. Matt needed the distraction, so he asked the question. "Why are you here, Lauren?" He found a smile for when she glanced at him. "I'm assuming it's not for my sparkling conversation."

"Mello can't be."

Matt reached back behind himself and grasped the PSP. It was difficult to hold with two fingers out of commission, but he had worked it out. He resumed his position and switched it on. The cigarette between his lips dropped ash onto the screen. He tipped it off. Mahjong Fight Club loaded and he began to play. Once he was in a rhythm, he asked, "Do you see yourself as Mello's surrogate?"

Lauren hesitated. "Of course not. But I feel that he would want me here. The second he calls me off, I'll be straight home for a nice, long bath."

"So it's a hunch." Matt waited. He clicked on and placed thirteen more counters before he was sure that she wasn't going to answer. Lauren knew not to fill the silence with revealing chatter. She'd received lessons from Mello. "I see three possible reasons for you being here."

"Oh?"

"You have insights regarding my medical psychology; you have been instructed by Mello to be here; or you have been instructed by one of the others and this wariness between you and Chrissie is a front." Matt wrinkled up his nose. "Otherwise, it's a bit stalkerish."

Lauren shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "So you're not glad of the support?"

"You have no way of knowing that I'm innocent or that there really were extenuating circumstances." Matt watched the pixel display of flashing lights and fireworks. He had the sound turned off, so he couldn't hear the game commentator exclaim, 'Neat!' His mind filled the void. "Therefore you may be demonstrating your loyalty to me in a war which ultimately pits me against Mello."

"Is this theoretical?"

"Just understanding your motivation." Matt dropped his cigarette butt onto the tiles and stepped on the ember to put it out. "Only you act like you know things about me that you shouldn't know." His gaze flickered up to see her expression. She was perfectly impassive, watching him right back. "Thus implying the first of my supposed reasons. If it's that Mello has ordered you here, then you have been in contact with him without informing me."

Lauren pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Mello said to me, before we were ever on this case, let alone in this situation, that I should prioritise helping you in an emergency situation. If it was a choice between your welfare and his, then I should save you." She gave a half-shrug. "That is why I helped you at the chalets and why I'm sitting here now."

"What about your welfare?" Matt asked, secretly pleased that Mello had made provision for him like that. "How long do you sit there before you decide that the UN job would have been better?"

"Are you sending me home?"

Matt pondered it. The privacy would be good, though she would only be replaced with a nameless security guard. But she might be useful for getting a message to Mello later on. "Just asking."

"It is my understanding that I work for Mello." Lauren stated, without emotion. She paused, but she was tired enough to say it. "I don't actually work for you, do I, Matt?" She smiled to indicate that she intended no offence. "I realise that this often amounts to the same thing, but when it boils down to it, Mello is my employer. He knows that I'm here, because I know that Hal has told him. He will also know why I'm here. To me, the order to remain here is implicit in the absence of any other to the contrary." She took out her Blackberry to check her e-mails. "Does that not also imply his commitment to you? In that he has indirectly deployed his sole employee to keeping your spirits up?"

"Not necessarily." Matt smiled. "You could be a spy." He mused over Mello's easy charm and charisma, particularly with the ladies. They loved him; full on flirting with him, even when Mello was being as camp as fuck. Highly professional, ambitious women turned into sappy girls around him. Mello could make them do anything. Die for him; kill for him; put their lives on hold for him; follow him to the ends of the earth and back; sacrifice themselves willingly in suicide missions, if Mello asked them to. Matt was aware that this wasn't about the women anymore. He was thinking about himself. Were there any limits to what he'd do or forgive or suffer for Mello? This was, after all, the basis of the slave contract. The answer was no. There were no levels of degradation, humiliation, pain nor incarceration that he wouldn't endure, if Mello asked him to. But that was love, as far as he could see, and he had it bad. "You haven't answered my question."

Lauren looked up from her Blackberry. "I'm sorry, did you ask one?"

"What about your welfare?" Matt replied. "You see, you are basing your strategy on the assumption that Mello is a good and caring boss. That he would remember to send you home, if he's wiped his hands of me."

"Care doesn't come into it. He wants my detective and linguistic skills for his code." She glanced to her right. "Chrissie is coming."

Matt's mouth felt dry. He tensed inwardly, both wanting and fearing news, while dreading more demands for ever more invasive co-operation. Outwardly, he simply looked as though he hadn't even heard Lauren's warning. He moved his counters across his screen.

Chrissie came into view. She bristled with suppressed agitation. "I've just finished speaking with Near. He's looking at my proposal for how an in-house trial might be arranged. No-one associated with Wammy's House, past or present, on the jury. We have out-riders for that. The people stationed all over the world, who find people like us and transport us into the Institution. They have impartiality, but also knowledge of the system, so are less likely to bring their own personal bias to the table. Alumni prosecution and defence. Board of Directors passing sentence, if there is a guilty verdict. But only within the limitations of the jury recommendations." She gripped a bar. "He replied that I should arrange a Board meeting to discuss it, as he can't act on Resolution matters without one." She shook her head. "Nobody ever actually wanted justice, did they? I was the one fighting for these provisions from the word go. Now everyone is dragging their feet, when the need is even greater than before."

Matt shrugged. "They want to lock me up, forget about me and throw away the key." It felt like a cold fist was clenched around his stomach. "Murdering each other is so last year."

Chrissie nodded. "Depressing, isn't it? But I know that I have Salvo and Century's support on this. Do I have yours?"

Lauren quickly interjected, "I doubt that Mello, once he's well, will be content to abandon Matt in here. I can guarantee that."

"Hence the speed." Chrissie gave a steely smile. "Setting up a whole court system, before Mello turns us into the Mafia."

Matt didn't reply. Counters moved swiftly across his screen. Lauren muttered, "He wouldn't do that." Though they all knew that he would, if pushed into a corner.

"Matt." Chrissie surveyed him intently. "I know that you're buying time. It's not in your interests to vote on anything. But if Mello did waltz in here, all guns blazing, and failed, then he would also be locked away without recourse to a judiciary. Do you see what I'm saying here?" She was still staring at him. Matt could picture it all very well. He also deduced that Mello would vote in favour of the court, before proposing that the cells be moved out of Near's direct supervision. Then Mello would elect himself overseer of the installation of a new Watari prison. All the better for incorporating escape routes known only to himself. "Matt, Mello is being flown to Wammy's House. Once he's there, you'll get daily telephone conversations with him."

"Really?" Matt hated the way that his spirits leapt at that, especially since it had been so visible. It was in his tone and the way that his head shot up. He tried to affect nonchalance. "Ok."

Chrissie smiled. "Mello, through Hal, made a case for prolonged non-communication being a cruel and degrading punishment, based on your needs, as outlined in articles 32 and 32.d of the Resolution. It was supported by Hal, Valerie and Madeleine. Deontic, Luigi and I all gave it our assent."

Lauren beamed, "See! He is thinking about you." Her shoulders twitched, like she found this cute. Matt felt the warmth seeping back through his extremities. He awarded them a short smile and bowed his head again. Lauren switched her attention to Chrissie. "Forgive me, but it really does seem like you're all making this up as you go along."

"That's because we are, sweetheart." Chrissie allowed the bitterness to edge her tone. "But it's not for want of me trying. Matt can testify that I never shut up about it in planning meetings. It's me who has to deal with the fallout. If anyone else were in Neuron's position, Amnesty International would have been called in by now." She uttered a frustrated sound. "And it's not for love of him either. He killed a lot of people whom I knew very well. He came after me and mine. It's all I can do to be civil to the little shit, but that's not the point. What is happening to him could happen to me, to Salvo; it's already happening to Matt. We're either working with the law, administering justice, or we're placing ourselves above the law. If that is the case, then we're opening up a whole can of worms." She looked from one to the other. "What if Neuron had succeeded in getting the L Code? Kira would have been nothing compared to what that sociopathic little fuck could have instigated, before presidents and police chiefs realised that something was amiss. The access that he could have had for the asking beggars belief."

Lauren frowned, "If L has that kind of access, and someone somewhere must be being paid off to keep Wammy's House under the radar, then why aren't our criminals just handed over to the civil authorities?"

"As it used to happen, you mean?" Chrissie replied. "When the original L had the Code? Beyond attacked civilians. He was arrested by the LAPD. As far as I know, Wammy's House and the Watari system were never mentioned. What's happening now is that major crimes are taking place in-house, where the accused, the victims and all of the witnesses are in the system. Discussion of the motivation alone would shine a spotlight on the Institution and its practices."

"I know that. I just figured that someone could be paid off." Lauren shrugged.

Matt had had enough of this. He spoke up. "There are flaws in your idealism, which are making everyone uncomfortable, Chrissie. You're trying to stick a veneer of legality over a criminal operation. Our murderers and attempted rapists cannot be tried in a court of law, because we're all human traffickers and the victims of human traffickers. The Resolution is little more than an attempt to regulate the lawlessness into an honour code. It doesn't legitimise it and any attempt at judiciary would result in a kangaroo court." Matt sneered. "The simple act of imprisoning me makes criminals of you all, because you do not have the legal authority. Your justifications are prettified ways of covering your own backs. If you had the moral high-ground, then no-one would fear exposure in an open court. As it is, taking us out and putting a bullet in our heads would be a more honest way of removing our threat." He allowed his gaze to linger upon Chrissie. "Make no mistake, we abducted Neuron. We locked him up for revenge and our own convenience. Have your show trial all you like, but don't kid yourself that it means anything. We already are a small and growing criminal underworld. We just deal in lucrative investigations, rather than drugs and prostitution."

Lauren was staring with her jaw open. Chrissie nodded just once and said, "I know."

"Right." Matt nodded. "I did wonder. Thank you for the information. Mine, in response, is this advice. Re-evaluate your end game, because you are playing Mello. You are trying to find dignity and worth in your own upbringing by forcing an exit strategy. As long as we're all out there, solving crimes, finding a cure for cancer and representing children in truly corrupt judiciaries, then you can justify how we all came to be in a position to do so. Our lawlessness can be overlooked, as long as no-one abuses it too much. It must have galled you very much, in your line of work, knowing that you were colluding in this." Matt smirked. "Championing the weak, the powerless and the disappeared in the courtrooms of dictatorships, while colluding in one of your own. Could you even do that with a straight face?" He slowly shook his head. "You want Neuron in a criminal asylum or a state prison, with a brand new identity and a wad of cash handed to whoever can make that happen without exposing the whole. You want that so you can pretend again that Watari is a force for good and justice."

"You haven't proved that it isn't. You speak like that debate has happened and the conclusions already reached." Chrissie countered. "Don't lead your argument with your own bias."

Matt lit another cigarette. "I concede that you believe that it is; and that the ends justify the means. But I'm not here to debate that with you." He inhaled smoke. "Re-evaluate your end game. You are playing Mello and using me as your counter. You are aligning me with Neuron to force our positions to be considered jointly. That way, you hope to move Neuron back into the field of play. You will no doubt demand his trial first, thus ensuring that he is dealt with, while I am still a bargaining chip. Then object to everything, on account of it being a kangaroo court and therefore it's all objectionable. Neuron's trial will be used to prove that we cannot legitimately do this in-house."

Chrissie narrowed her eyes, "A lot of assumptions here, Matty."

"Whatever you're planning involves using me as a counter. Stick Neuron's counter on top and eliminate us both." Matt smiled. "Neat!" He took a deep drag of his cigarette, watching her. She was getting impatient. "You're making your moves, riding roughshod over Mello, while he's down and helpless. You're using his husband as your pawn. You're ostensibly doing it on behalf of the boy that abducted and nearly killed me last year. If you think that he is not taking notes, then you really have been blind-sided by opportunism."

"Don't threaten me, especially when I have witnesses." Chrissie warned. "I know that you were about to."

Matt met her gaze. "If you don't want to accept the reality of our murky underworld, then get out of it. Because there will be a real wake up call, if you stay in play. If you make your moves. Your expertise is a court of law. This is not a court of law. It is the sordid underbelly of a criminal organisation. It has other masters." Matt smiled. "It's not personal, Chrissie. It's strictly business."