The Annals of Fear

"Ok, what have we got?" Mello sat on the back of the settee, with an overview of the room, now that he\'d moved the settee away from the staircase. His right leg rested against Matt\'s back. Matt was perched on the very edge of the cushion, with one laptop on the floor and another on his lap. The former was split into four different screens, each playing back recordings from earlier in the evening. He was trying to get the second laptop on-line. "If it was foxes, why were they upstairs?"



Deontic was cross-legged on the floor, her back against an armchair. A dozen origami shapes had taken form on the carpet in front of her. "Some kind of auditory illusion?"



"We simplify it more than that." Mello raised his chocolate in the air. "All it needs is a speaker. A microphone out there. It sounded like foxes, yes?"



Curled up on the other armchair, Century nodded. "It sounded like the warning cry of foxes. A whole family of them." He spoke though the heavy sucking of a lollipop in his mouth. A pile of papers were on his lap, another pile on the floor beneath him. He added to the latter, as he skim-read those in front of him.



Mello\'s gaze strayed to the laptop on the floor, then back to the stairs. "The most rational explanation is that someone else is in this house. They have set up a speaker to channel noises from outside into here; and they moved my figurine." He nearly took a bite of chocolate, but another thought occurred to him. "That Mr Roberts has a key."



Matt leaned down, pausing the video footage. "Mell." He passed it up and Mello took it.



"What am I looking at?"



"Bottom right, Deontic arriving. Top right, the statue still in the bedroom. Time code the same."



Mello nodded. "Thank you, Matt."



Deontic flashed an irritated glance, but continued with her origami. They had already searched the house and found no-one in it. There had been no more screaming from the grounds nor the rooms above their heads, but they were all still on edge. By unspoken, mutual consent, no-one had wandered off alone since they had been so spooked. She waited for a couple of minutes to pass then asked, "Well?"



"You came into the house. Put on two lights, looked at these two room, dumped your bag and went out. We are just arriving here." Mello reported.



"Your apology is accepted, Mello."



Mello smirked at her. "I apologise for doubting you, Deontic."



She nodded, not even smiling at her small victory. Her fingers folded paper. "Are we....?"



But Mello was handing the laptop back to Matt and leaping off the settee. He bounced the two long steps to her side and she flinched away. Mello crouched, peering at her with big eyes. "No, I do mean it. I am sorry that I doubted your word. You have no reason to sabotage a crime scene."



"You needed to eliminate it. Your conclusions made sense." She pushed herself further against the armchair, as Mello made to hug her. "What are you doing?"



"Sorry." He drew his hands back. "Shake on it?"



"You\'re being very strange, Mello."



On the settee, Matt snorted. They all looked at him. Mello rolled his eyes, then jumped back onto his heels and stood. "Are we what, Dee?"



"Staying here tonight?" She asked the question of the paper dragon in her hand. It had been created out of red crepe paper. The Ddraig Goch, the national symbol of Wales.



Mello frowned. "With respect, you can do what you like. You weren\'t invited here."



Deontic acknowledged the slur with a fractional nod of her head. "Nevertheless I\'m here and I\'m involved now. Your speaker theory holds credence, but we didn\'t actually spot a speaker and the sound moved. That would require more than one speaker, placed in strategic locations. Plus it would mean that the person setting it all up would have known that the foxes were going to scream outside." She threw the paper dragon at Century, intending it as a gift. He let it fall just short of his chair, his gaze watching it until he\'d concluded that it was safe. Then he reached out to lift it between finger and thumb, inspecting it with a blank expression. "It\'s the red dragon."



"Yes." Century replied. He placed it on the arm of his chair, then steadied the documents on his lap and bowed over them again, reading. An uneasy silence descended, punctuated only by the rustling of paper and the tapping of Matt\'s fingers on his keyboard. Mello stared at each of them in turn. He seemed about to speak, when Century quietly asked, "What would happen if someone came in now? Hiding in a priest hole or something?"



Mello looked around like he half expected someone already in view. "You mean came down the stairs or through the door?"



"Either."



"I would apprehend them." Mello replied. Matt smirked, but whatever he was thinking, he didn\'t share. "Are there any priest holes in this house?"



"Apprehend them how?"



"By whatever means necessary to ensure their apprehension." A smile flickered across Mello\'s features at the play on words. "Then continue to make them very apprehensive indeed."



Century swallowed. "You\'d get out your gun and shoot them." Mello bit into his chocolate and the words hung in the air. It was all the answer that Century needed. His expression didn\'t change, but he stood so suddenly that the papers fell to the floor and scattered there. He made it halfway to the entrance room, before Mello was upon him, slamming him into the wall. "Dewi!" Century shrieked, struggling with all his extra height and reach. But Mello was the better fighter and adept at restraining people. He kicked out at the back of Century\'s knees, sending him toppling into the narrow space between Mello, the wall and a small table with a lamp on it. Mello grabbed a handful of long, black hair and yanked Century\'s head back.



"Stop!" Deontic was on her feet. "Mello! Stop! Mello!" She looked frantically at Matt for help, but the redhead was just impassively watching the whole scene unfold.



Mello\'s gaze was icy, the Mafia back in his tone. "You will not leave until I give you permission to leave." His hand reached up to his chest. "Your fear is a weakness. You have allowed yourself to gain this Achilles\'s Heel and it will be used against you, if you let it. Mine died in fire and I\'ve embraced fire. You would have been better off if you\'d embraced your nemesis too."



Deontic ran half of the distance towards them. "Please, Mello, think about what you\'re doing. Please!"



"Heh." Mello sniffed, without mirth, and drew out his gun. Century\'s eyes scittered towards it, but it didn\'t even make it to his temple before he began screaming. Terror made him push back, knocking the table into the fireplace. The lamp fell and smashed on the hearth and Century would have gone with it, had Mello not still held him by the hair. Century fought with feet and fists, forcing Mello back. Then Deontic was between them, arms wide, like a goalkeeper shielding the teenager. Mello released his hair, but it didn\'t stop Century screaming. He was curled up, foetal position against the wall, and Mello, watching, flushed from red to pale. "Wow." He backed away, hands in the air. "Ok, I\'ve stopped."



Century sobbed, in utter hysteria, screams still coming. Deontic and Mello stared down at him, at a loss to know what to do. Matt was on his knees on the settee, watching in fascination. Century had not acted like this in years of living at Wammy\'s House. His defences tended more towards the running away or nonchalence, with just the occasional burst of temper. Deontic reached out a hand to ineffectively touch his shoulder. "Do you think we ought to call Chrissie?"



"Fuck no." Mello replied, emphatically. "Matt, catch." He threw his gun across the room and Matt caught it easily. It disappeared under the fold of a laptop carrying case. Mello tore off his jacket and cast it away. Tight leather held no more places for a weapon to be stashed. He crouched down, his voice low and reassuring. "Iestyn, I\'m sorry. I played that totally wrong. I under-estimated how much it would frighten you. I\'m sorry." The screams had subsided, but there were still plenty of tears. "You handled it much better in Greece." Mello grimaced. "This is actually a proper phobia, isn\'t it?" He glanced upwards. "Deontic, can you get him a glass of water please?" He watched her stand there, uncertainty rife in her features. Mello stared at her until she fled to get it. He turned his attention back to the teenager. "Iestyn, I\'m a wanker. I\'m the biggest twat to walk this Earth. The item has gone. I\'m unarmed. I would never have used it on you. It\'s ok. You\'re safe. I swear that you\'re safe." His minute movements towards the teenager had brought Mello into a position to hold him. To his surprise, Century only struggled a little. Mello suspected that it was because Century was trembling too much to stand and so this was the best of his options. "I\'m not going to hurt you. I\'m going to help you stand up and we\'re going to the settee. You can have a lollipop and a glass of water. It\'s all ok." They rose and took a couple of steps away from the wall. Century bolted. He twisted under Mello\'s arm and dashed for the door.



"Century!" Deontic yelled, halfway back with a mug of water. But he was already out into the passage, pulling at a door that his panic hadn\'t noted was deadlocked. Deontic gave Mello a withering look and they hurried together after him. Water sloshed out of the mug onto Deontic\'s dress. They found Century slid onto the floor, his back to the door and his arms around himself, shivering. Deontic sighed. "You know, Century, it would be far easier just to punch his lights out. You\'re bigger than him!" And she acted the instant the idea occurred to her as, without thought for its consequences, she turned and threw the contents of the mug into Mello\'s face. "Grow up!"



Mello stood still, stunned and dripping, too shocked for anger. Even Century, staring from the floor, stopped shaking as his jaw dropped. Deontic stepped back, as if already punched; her whole body\'s movements jerking into rigidity. She looked from one to the other in a quick, jagged bobbing of her head, then walked mechanically past Mello back into the larger room. Century\'s lips formed a perfect \'O\' and Mello burst out laughing. "Oh my God!" He roared. "Oh my God! I can\'t believe you just did that!" He raised a hand to signal to Century to wait, then twirled around to jog in Deontic\'s wake. She was standing behind Matt, looking horrified. Mello giggled. "Like he\'d fucking save you!" There was a shifting behind him and Mello peered back over his sodden shoulder to find Century standing there, trembling, pale and watching. "Touché. Tou-fucking-ché!" Mello laughed, striding forward towards Deontic.



Despite his mirth, tension hung heavily in the air. They were all too used to Mello\'s unpredictable nature and the mercurial switching between emotions. Only Matt remained unreadable. Standing now beside the settee with Deontic several paces beyond; and, as Mello passed him by, Matt caught him around the waist with one arm. Swinging Mello into his grasp, Matt raised his own arms to wrap around his husband\'s neck. Matt clung on and kissed him, long and passionately; the redhead\'s whole body pressed against the Slav\'s. Matt carried on kissing him, long after Mello\'s shoulders had relaxed and his arms were holding Matt in turn. Like satellite stars, Deontic and Century could only watch, waiting for the kiss to be over, so they could gauge where that left the state of their world. Deontic mouthing to the teenager, \'Don\'t run. Don\'t run.\' Matt eventually eased his lips away, kissing across Mello\'s scar to his ear, wherein he whispered, "Smiri se."



Mello nodded, his head bowing into Matt\'s shoulder. "I\'ll try."