Walls Came Tumbling Down

Mello awoke to the intense aching of pain-controlled wounds. He had briefly stirred twice before, since talking with Hal and Deontic. The first time was to find a doctor in the room. The conversation had occurred dully, with Mello barely remembering any of it, behind the acknowledgement that it had happened. The second was in the middle of the night. He had had a terrible thirst. The jug of water seemed beyond him, yet pride held him back from calling a nurse. He'd drifted into and out of sleep, until there was an abortive attempt to pour himself a drink. The nurse had come anyway, once the water was all over the floor.

Now he dozed, propped up with pillows, while his mind ticked over with unresolvable thoughts. There really were no conclusions to be reached nor strategies to be made, until he'd spoken with Matt. A general rise in the number of people clattering past his door alerted Mello to the fact that visiting time had begun. He tried to steady himself inwardly, trusting that he would know what to say to his husband, when he walked in. Mello hated the fact that he was actually nervous. He felt too weak to deal with the inevitable scene that would follow. The small talk and cautious affirmations of love and forgiveness, before getting down to the nitty-gritty of comparing notes. It would be painful and Matt would eventually have to leave, with all of the psychological implications for him that that implied. Mello wished that he had a fast forward button to make it already over and everything alright between them.

Mello's eyes were closed. His mind seemed looped on the intention to demand a transfer to Wammy's House infirmary today, so that he could keep Matt with him. If Madeleine refused to let them share a bed in there, then they'd just go home. Mello heard his room's door open. He both hated and was glad that the sound of someone entering was met with a sudden beep and a bouncing of his heart-rate on the monitor. He slowly opened his heavy eyelids, but noted, with an abject disappointment, that he was staring at Hal.

"How are you this morning?" Hal asked, with a wary breeziness.

"Like shit. Where's Mail?" Mello knew what the answer would be, even as he asked it. He wished that it had occurred to him, in advance, the possibility that the Wammy staff and alumni might keep Matt away from him. Mello's brain wasn't working fast enough for a considered response.

Hal pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat on it. She extracted a pile of magazines from a 'bag for life', and placed them onto the cabinet. "You look a little better. All of the anaesthetic is out of your system now. How is it feeling?" She nodded towards his arm, encased in its plastic brace, though she might just as easily be referring to the gunshot wound in his torso.

Mello blinked slowly. He rasped out, "Please don't fuck with me, Hal. I don't feel well enough for rescue missions. I will if I have to though. I'm not pressing any charges."

"It's not that simple."

"Why isn't it?" Mello demanded. "Where are the obstacles? I'm of sound mind and I've chosen not to press charges. Trust me, it will be easier all 'round for Mail to be returned to me. Who's holding him?"

"Are you 'of sound mind'?"

A cold sweat was gathering across Mello's skin. "How are they charging him? Is he safe? Please tell me that it's just Deontic, down at the chalets, with no-one else for miles around." It was dawning upon him that none of them officially existed. He only had Hal's honour, as a safeguard that everything would happen within the guidelines of the Resolution. No civil authority could hear Matt's case. No-one outside the Watari system would be any wiser, if Matt just disappeared indefinitely. Mello reached for the hem of his quilt and began to ease it away from him. "Why does it always have to be me rescuing him? Did he go with his arresting officer without any incident?" His imagination played out the potential scene. "Oh God! Who's been hurt?"

Hal's hand covered Mello's to still it. "He's not in Aberystwyth. He's been taken to the Watari holding cells, though I can assure you that it's in a different wing to Neuron."

"Near has him?" Mello could hardly breathe. "You have to be kidding me!"

"You knew this, Mello." Hal calmly reminded him. It was obvious from her expression that he must be missing whole chunks of memory. She went on, attempting to reassure him, "Near is not there. They haven't met and Near has no plans to return to this country any time soon. But Chrissie and Lauren are both there. Chrissie has agreed to take his case."

Mello's jaw gaped. The monitor showed his heart pounding. "On what charges? Who is orchestrating this?" He resisted Hal's efforts to tuck him back into the bed. "Hal, I feel like crap. I'm not well enough to be doing this, but I will!" Worry creased his features. "Oh! For fuck's sake! I really am fucking hated by them, aren't I? Watari is trying to tell me how to run my marriage? What is this? Are you protecting your investment?" He was weakening under the struggle to get the quilt away from his body. Hal hardly appeared to be challenged. She hadn't even broken a sweat. "What happens in my marriage is between me and Mail, no-one else."

"You're working yourself into a state. Calm down."

"No, I fucking won't! It was alright for me to get upset last year, when another set of Wammy alumni had him. Chrissie's his lawyer? Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Mello finally lay still, too exhausted to do much more. Eventually visiting time would be over and Hal would have to go. He would make his move then. "He's in London? Do I get visiting rights? Did he go voluntarily?"

Hal surveyed him, grimly, "Would it surprise you to know that he did?"

"Shit." Mello glared at the ceiling. "Then he must believe that he did it, though that was a fucking stupid move to give himself up like that." The full horror of this situation was growing upon him. "He does know that I'm alive, doesn't he? Did you tell him that I was asking after him?"

"Lauren is with him. Matt has been given the news and he has sent a message." She watched Mello look sharply back towards her. "He said to say, 'Watari'." It was said with a quizzical edge and her expression emphasizing the query.

Mello sighed. Pieces of this were coming back to him, like something half remembered from a dream. "Fuck this shit." He made a lunge at the quilt with his good hand, intent upon getting out of bed, discharging himself and tearing down Near's walls, brick by brick, until he found Matt. Recovery could take place, in private, at home. He succeeded in exposing the left side of his hospital gown-clad body. Actually moving after that was far more agonising than he had envisaged. He roared out his frustration and discomfort, then lay very still, his hand over his face.

Hal very carefully replaced the quilt and leaned over him. "We have gone to great lengths to ensure Matt's on-going safety and security. If you are prepared to cause lasting damage to yourself, out of misguided pride and an inappropriate sense of tortured innocence, then I will consider breaking both of your legs."

"Hal, don't mess with me. This is serious." He peered out from beneath his hand.

"It's been serious for a long time. Valerie certainly thinks it's serious. He gave her stitches three days ago." Hal surreptitiously touched the pale patch of bruising, where Mello had slapped her own face during the previous week. As distracted as he was, the gesture was still not lost on Mello. He stared at her, trying to ascertain if she was joking. Hal continued, "Then this. You might view it as not worthy of being addressed, but others do. We're prepared to prosecute him for you."

Mello gaped at her. "I'm not fourteen, Hal. I've been out in the big, bad world and Watari has nothing on me anymore."

"It has a duty of care." Hal swallowed. "For you and for the rest of the world."

"You're saying he's too dangerous to be free." Mello replied, shortly. "The Beyond Birthday of our generation. Mail." He grit his teeth. "This is bullshit. This is no-one even thinking anymore! And you say that I'm the emotional one!"

"Was that a veiled threat?"

Mello made to speak, then stopped. He was incriminating himself here before he had the energy to move. They were all scared of his Mafia past. He could threaten them with that. He didn't even have to go that far. He could storm the place on his own. But his body was letting him down. There felt like too much time pressure here too. Matt had never been very stable. "How long has this been planned, Hal?"

"Planned?"

"Since that time when you tried to separate us at Wammy's House? You've had your opportunity since then. You didn't take it. Did you not...?"

Hal shook her head. "Nothing was planned here, Mello. He shot you and left you for dead. He's been arrested. He was acting erratically before that and one of my staff members needed stitches."

"Who gave the order?"

Hal licked her lips. "Why do you want him here so desperately, when he tried to kill you?"

Mello growled, "Because that wasn't him!" He was seething in frustration. It showed in his expression. "I heard a voice from his mouth that wasn't his voice and I saw his face. My husband did not shoot me. It was some kind of possession."

"And you don't think that shock or hallucination..."

"God damn it, Hal!" Mello yelled. It hurt his throat. He settled down. "I am hurting and ill and I want my husband. Is that too much to...?"

"Yes." Hal injected a gentler tone, but the steel was there behind it. "This isn't a lawless state, Mello, however much Wammy's House was run like one." She was looking at him with pity. Mello didn't know what to say. He wanted to burst into tears or punch something. He lay there very still. "And, on the plus side, he's in a position where his prescription drug dependency can be dealt with, without you having to be the baddie there. In addition, he can be properly assessed psychologically and the appropriate steps made to help him. Isn't that a bonus for you?"

Mello gave her a withering look and turned away. He whispered, "I went through Kira for this."

"And how do we know that you won't enact your own brand of justice upon him?"

"What?!" Mello turned back. "You really are fucking insane now!"

Hal gave a half-shrug, though she did seem a little uncomfortable. "Plus there is an issue with the Williams brothers. You're cleared of killing Dion Williams, but you did something. We have Morien in custody and we have a message on Deontic's 'phone, which you made with them. Dion Williams died in handcuffs, Mello."

"Yeah. Well. His brother should have been stronger and looked after him." Mello glared at the ceiling. "I'm not apologising for leaving two men, in their own territory, with the resources to get out. They were both alive when I left. I am not responsible for what they did to themselves." His eyes flickered towards her. "Am I under arrest now?"

"Not yet."

Mello sighed. He had many options, but all of them involved personal cost. "Are we still friends, Hal?"

Hal met his gaze. "You've talked to me like I'm a bag of shit over these past few days. Now I'm suddenly useful again, you want to know if we're still friends." She rolled her eyes. "You can be so full of crap sometimes, Mello."

"You're not that petty." Mello bit his lip, but he'd seen the flash in her eyes. "I apologise if I hurt your feelings. You hurt mine too." He shifted uncomfortably and she looked alert. But he wasn't about to leap out. It was painful enough just lying there pumped full of pain-killers. "Who's pulling these strings? Is it Near who has arrested Mail?"

"It was the obvious decision to make at the time."

"Did Near...?"

"Deontic suggested the option. I arranged it through Near. None of the others, including Matt and Lauren, protested it." Hal gestured helplessness. "Lauren wished it was a local cell, in this town's police station, but she was over-ruled. Matt didn't say a word. He didn't even look at us. He entered the helicopter without any hesitation." Hal watched Mello's expression. "You harbour no resentment towards him whatsoever?"

Mello thought that, with a little relaxing of will, he might just start crying. He wondered if tears might defrost her attitude, bending it into sympathy towards him. But he kept the tears back and merely asked, huskily, "Do I get a 'phone call?"

"What?"

"With my husband. I want to speak with Mail."

Uncertainty was betrayed in her body-language, but she answered briskly enough. "That can be arranged."

"Then I want to be transferred. I'll go in with him."

"Mello."

"Wammy's House then." Mello grit his teeth. He would be a lot closer to London in Winchester, than he was here, on the west coast of Wild Wales. "Are all of our things still in the chalet?"

Hal exhaled, then decisively took out her 'phone. "Yes, everything is back at the chalet, including both your motorcycle and Matt's car. Deontic and I are still there too. The others have gone." She waited for his comments and questions, but none came. He still wanted her to make that call. She sighed and marched towards the door. "I'll be back."

"Thank you, Hal."