The Annals of Fear

It was 3am and Century was dozing in the armchair, his long legs curled up beneath him. Deontic sat on the floor, her back against the second armchair. She was surrounded by quite complex origami shapes and her head kept dropping. Mello noted it all. The bedding had been brought in from Deontic\'s car, but it was just piled up in a heap in the corner. Mello and Matt\'s quilts were still on the bed upstairs. Neither one of them really wanted to go up there, though Mello pondered that it would give himself and Matt chance to talk in private. Mello stretched out on the settee, the movement making Matt shift slightly in his arms. Mello smiled reassurance and stroked Matt\'s arm.



"Are you going to bed?" Mello directed the question at Deontic, startling her.



"I should." Deontic replied, though her glance at the staircase and her whole demeanour screamed that she didn\'t want to. "Have I got a room?"



"Plenty up there." Mello rested his head against the back of the settee. "Century\'s asleep."



Deontic nodded quickly, looking worried. The paper in her hand twisted frantically into another fold. A thought occurred to her and she looked up sharply. "Are you going to bed?"



"I should too." Mello yawned. "I\'ll be alright. I\'ve got Matt with me." He watched her through lidded eyes to see if she was going to admit that she was afraid to be alone in this place. She didn\'t, though Mello watched the steel having to descend through her nerves. The curse of Wammy\'s House, he pondered silently, was to not admit to your own humanity. "And one of us does have to drive tomorrow, so..."



"Yes." Deontic nodded. "Me too."



Mello sighed and sat up straighter. He pulled his leg up from behind Matt\'s back, so he could place both feet on the floor. Deontic observed these harbingers of retirement with huge eyes. Matt just watched him, awaiting the signal that he also had to move. Mello placed his forearms on his own thighs, with his hands dangling down between his knees. He surveyed the laptops lined up on the floor at his feet. "Nothing else has happened for hours."



"No." She agreed, emphatically.



Mello mused on how Deontic had tried to bring them all together. The survivors of their generation supposed to now become one big family, despite the fact that they were all in constant competition and had more precedent for killing each other than supportive co-operation. He suspected that under that prim exterior, Deontic was quite a dreamer. Or desperate for family. "I have been in situations that have scared the fucking crap out of me, but I\'ve had to go through with them. Moments when I never knew if I would make it through the next five minutes, let alone the next hour. Watari taught me to think of myself as expendable, in pursuit of the greater cause."



"Justice is important." Deontic bowed her head. "And you are referring to the old regime."



"Matt told me that you and he went to see Roger, after I left Wammy\'s. Roger made it clear to you that you were next. That if Near and I failed, you would be following us onto the front line." Mello tilted his head to better see her face. It was shadowed under her black fringe. He noticed that the little slide, that kept the side locks out of her eyes, had nearly worked its way out. "Were you scared, Pek Wan?"



Deontic sighed. "What does this serve?"



"I\'m just asking a question."



She stared back at him, defiantly. Then wilted and nodded. "Yes."



Mello nodded. "Then I\'m sorry for what that thirteen year old girl inside you went through." He stood suddenly. "Come on, Matt. Let\'s bring some mattresses down here." He was gratified to see that both Matt and Deontic were surprised by that. "What\'s up? Never bunked down on a floor before?" Mello shrugged, as he took the first two stairs in one leap. "Trust me, there were nights when I\'d have been grateful for a blanket, let alone a mattress! You pair have had it far too luxurious." He was on the mid-landing, before Matt had even got off the settee. Mello cast a firm look back at him and Matt followed him up. "Be right back, Ms Lim."



It was slightly nerve-wracking stepping onto the first floor corridor, but Mello looked both ways and it was all clear. Matt appeared wholly unconcerned, trailing behind him, but Mello had long ago learned to look past Matt\'s facade to the man inside. He reached back and took Matt\'s hand into his own. Both sets of gloves destroyed any sense of contact, but the pressure of their fingers against each other was a comfort. Once into their self-allocated bedroom, it felt a little safer, less like they were being watched. Mello pulled Matt into a fierce embrace and kissed him. As Mello released him again, Matt grinned. "So I\'m not getting a shag tonight then?"



"Whore."



"Si."



Mello laughed. "Ok, let\'s get these quilts and throw them down the stairs. Pillows too. Then we can...." He considered the practicalities. "Reckon we could get four of us on here? It\'s a double."



"Century\'s on the armchair." Matt pondered it.



"Actually, good point." Mello replied. "If we put it up right next to the settee, then one person can be up there. The other three down on the floor on this mattress. We should offer the lady the settee. Decorum and all that."



Matt raised his eyebrows. "Totally missing the fact that you and I are gay and therefore Century is most in danger from our predatory invasions."



Mello stared at him, jealousy rising unbidden. "You\'d fuck Century?"



"Only if it was a choice between Century and Deontic."



Mello\'s jaw dropped. He didn\'t want those images in his head. "Mail. Look at me."



Matt smirked. "Chill out, moj dragan. I have no desire to fuck Century."



"Good." But the notion had unsettled Mello. He tried to rationalise the thought away, occupying himself in yanking the bedding off and bundling it in his arms. "Just throwing this down the stairs." He strode out. The corridor felt busy, like something could appear in it at any time. That too was illogical, as activity had happened before in the room that he\'d just vacated. "Dee." He called down. "Grab this bedding please." He threw it, but it unravelled and he had to kick it before it slid down. He glimpsed Deontic pulling the quilts the rest of the way, before he returned to the bedroom. Matt was stuffing his PSP lead back into his bag. They hadn\'t unpacked much. "Are we taking our bags down too?"



"I don\'t see why not."



Mello nodded. "We\'ll come back for those. Let\'s get this mattress down. It\'s going to be the Devil to manoeuvre around those bends."



"Yeah." Matt agreed, taking up his side of the mattress. Mello ran around to the other side and lifted it high up into the air. It half slid, half fell, under his administrations, mostly onto Matt. "Arsehole!"



Mello laughed. "Easier to take out if it\'s on its side." He climbed over the base of the bed to grab the mattress again. "Got it?"



"How is this easier, Mello?"



"I\'m not going into the mathematics, Mail. Just trust me." Mello pushed his hand under the handle, steadied the bulk of the mattress and started to put his strength behind moving it. Matt joined him and together they dragged and pushed it to the door. Mello jumped through ahead of it and pulled it out onto the corridor. "When I think of getting hot and sweaty with you over a mattress, this isn\'t quite what I have in mind."



Still inside the bedroom, Matt laughed. "It\'s your idea, you cunt."



"I\'m being chivalrous." The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling and Mello had to resist the temptation to look behind him. He was frightening himself, he knew that. "Are you still pushing?"



"Yes." Matt replied and the mattress gave with a sudden jolt. "Woot!" It was free of the door and Matt stepped out. He turned to grin at Mello, but the grin froze on his face. Mello\'s breath hitched. Matt was looking past him. At a spot right behind him. Shock was stark on the Spaniard\'s visage and it was so unlike Matt to transparently display emotion that Mello froze too.



Mello didn\'t want to turn around. His heart was pounding. He was more scared now than he had been when the shinigami had appeared before him, back in LA. Because then Sidoh had been right in front of him. There was no unknown. Here he had only the look on Matt\'s face and the creeping sensation all up his back as clues to what he would see. It occurred to Mello that maybe Matt was playing a practical joke. There was nothing there. Mello would turn and Matt would laugh, then Mello would batter him senseless. It was ok to turn. Mello turned.



Someone was there. Mello was staring straight into her face, her eyes inches from his own. They were dead, lifeless, yet animated with emotion. She was dripping wet. Mello\'s shriek came out as a grunt. He couldn\'t leap back because the mattress was in the way. Ice flooded his veins, his whole body rendered immobile though it screamed out for flight or fight. She was not human. His mouth opened to scream or speak or anything, he didn\'t know. He heard his own voice, shaking and scared, "Zdravo Marijo, milosti puna, Gospodin s tobom..." And she moved away. She walked along the corridor away from them, past the top of the stairwell and into a room to its right. Mello crossed himself.



"I saw it too." Matt whispered, stunned.



Deontic was leaning around the mid-landing wall, "What\'s going on?"



Mello sprang into action. He released the mattress, with fingers stiffened through gripping it so hard, then lunged after her. The door into that room, if it had ever been open, had closed now. Matt had dropped his end of the mattress and clambered over it to stand at Mello\'s side. Mello reached out for the door handle, but it was Matt who kicked the door open. It flew back, affording them a quick glimpse of a dark and empty room, then ricochetted back. Mello and Matt exchanged glances, both pale and nervous. Then Mello gathered his fear and pushed it into anger. He shouldered through the door and immediately reached out to turn on the light.



The room was bare. In contrast to all of the other rooms on this floor, it had no furnishings at all. Even the carpet was gone. Their boots scuffed on naked floorboards. Mello glared fiercely into every corner, but it remained resolutely empty. "Why is there no camera in this room, Matt?"



"There was." Matt replied quietly.



"What?"



"There was a camera in this room." Matt repeated, though there was not even a tripod now.



Mello nodded quickly, "Ok. Then there will be footage." He ushered Matt back out again. "Deontic, why aren\'t you watching the camera feeds?" He watched her face bob back behind the wall and her footsteps hurry back down the lower stairs. "We can watch..." Mello started down the stairs after her, then changed his mind, colliding with Matt as he turned again. "Let\'s get the mattress down, if only so we don\'t have to come back up here."



"You ok, Mell?"



That irritated Mello. He snapped. "Get the fucking mattress, Mail." And the redhead scrambled across the fallen springs to reach the other side. A short hesitation, then Matt ran into the bedroom. "What the fuck?" Matt returned with both of their bags, which he hoisted over each shoulder. "Give them here." Matt handed them across. Mello yelled. "Deontic!" And, after a short dash, she appeared again on the mid-landing. "Take these." She ran up to take them, struggling under the weight. Mello wordlessly grabbed the mattress again and pulled with all of his might. Gravity didn\'t help as much as he had anticipated on the stairs, as the mattress sagged and sank. It helped when Century turned up, bleary-eyed, and helped keep it upright. Mello snarled. "It\'s like a bad joke. How many geniuses does it take to move a mattress?"



Matt replied without humour. "Apparently three."



"Heh." Mello sneered, as they finally manhandled its bulk into the sitting area and kicked it across the floor. Deontic was perched on the very edge of the settee, her anxious gaze swimming over sixteen views from different camera feeds. "Right." Mello breathed. "Everyone alright?"



Deontic gestured helplessness. "I don\'t know. What happened up there?"



Mello shook back his hair and snatched up a chocolate bar. "We saw a ghost."



"No way!" Century gushed. "The servant?"



"Is it on camera, Dee?"



She shook her head. "No. I saw both of you react, but there\'s nothing there. Maybe a slight shimmer in the air, but that could be the camera quality."



Matt lit a cigarette, Mello watched him do it. He could feel his sanity shifting under the precedent of memories. "You saw it, didn\'t you, Matt? It wasn\'t just me."



Matt nodded. "I saw her." That was safety. That was solid ground. Mello waited and Matt, sensing that more was required, went on. "She was standing literally right behind Mello, as in right up against him. Then she walked off into that room that we went into next." He took a deep drag on his cigarette. "And the bitch nicked my camera."



They all looked at the stairs. Century asked, "What did she look like? Could you see through her?"



Mello shook his head. "She was solid as you and I. She was wet. Dripping wet."



"Did she wail?"



"Century, shut up." Mello sat down and took up a laptop. He wanted to see the footage for himself. He wanted to see when precisely the camera had been taken from that room. He noticed that his hands were shaking. He inwardly berated himself. He used to be so calm. In the Mafia, he had been fire and ice. Nothing outwardly fazed him. His nerves kept tightly caged inside. He had stared down shinigamis. Where was that iron will now? Had it even existed? Maybe he was seeing the past through rose-tinted glasses. He could feel himself starting to become undone. Anxiety collapse, Roger had called it, back at the flat, when he had hurt Matt so badly. What if he was going mad again? Mello realised that he hadn\'t even flicked through the camera feeds. He looked up to find Matt watching him. Matt, who had since cracked himself. "Baby."



Matt took the couple of steps to settee. He leaned down, steadying himself with one knee on the cushion beside Mello, in order to wrap his arms around Mello\'s neck. The scent of Matt filled Mello\'s nostrils. Cigarettes and a musky aftershave, with a faint trace of the cedarwood and orange shampoo that he\'d used to wash his hair that morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. Matt\'s breath, hot on Mello\'s ear, whispered, "What\'s up?"



Mello hated himself for this weakness. His whole psyche shrank from saying it, especially with Deontic and Century in the room. But he had promised. "I think I\'m cracking up."



"You\'re not." Matt\'s voice was barely audible, so softly did he speak it right into Mello\'s ear. Remarkably, because Matt said so, Mello believed him. He felt himself uncoil, relax down that notch that just felt like ordinary stress. No madness. He was going to be alright. He just had to calm down. Mello opened his eyes and realised that Deontic and Century hadn\'t heard this. They weren\'t even looking in his direction. "Volim te, Mihael. Always."



Mello took several deep breaths. "Te amo." He felt stronger. More able to take this on. "Thank you, guapo." He placed the laptop on the settee beside him and hugged Matt properly. "I\'m alright."



"I know you are."



The other two heard that final exchange. Both looked across. Mello needed activity, so he stood, letting go of Matt in the process. "Let\'s get this bed sorted out." He moved quickly, burning up the nervous energy. "For the record, yes, I know that there are things to investigate and things to discuss, but I\'m worn out. I need to assimilate what I saw before I know how to react." Mello lifted laptops out of the way. Matt took them off him and placed them safely adjacent to the settee. Mello eyed the origami fretfully, but Deontic hurried to brush them to one side.



Century dragged the mattress a couple of feet towards them. "Over here?"



"In front of the settee please." Mello directed. He didn\'t feel right again. He felt unsettled. They were all looking at him with anxious expressions.



"Mello." Matt swooped down beside the settee and lifted up the Madonna figurine. He took Mello\'s arm and walked him towards the fireplace, whereupon he set the figurine down. "Kneel." Mello stared at Matt, unsure whether to do as he was told or to punch him. "Please."



"What\'s this about first?"



Matt lifted the rosary to Mello\'s lips. "Kiss."



Mello swallowed. Matt was trying to get him to pray. In front of everyone. He could feel control slipping away. But maybe it would help. Mello felt like praying. He didn\'t want to appear weak in front of all these Wammy alumni. He stared at Matt, who sighed. "Not now." Mello hissed. "I want to..."



Deontic interupted. "This house is oppressive. It\'s got us all on edge. It\'s like our worst fears are all being brought to the surface."

Mello\'s hand snaked out, his fingers curling around Matt\'s collar. The redhead stood impassively. Impassive, in front of him! Mello hissed, "Stop."



Century dragged the mattress alongside the settee and collected bedding from its two piles. "Who\'s sleeping here?"



Matt\'s gaze had dipped to the floor and Mello could almost see him beneath the layers of his defences. Across the room, there was a sob in Deontic\'s voice, "I keep hearing the river outside. Waters rushing past. I was only just gone two. I don\'t remember them. I just remember the sound of the water and the sense of being alone with strangers. It\'s..."



Mello let Matt go and strode across the room. Realisation at what she was saying pushing out his own insecurities. He gathered Deontic into his arms, though she became as stiff as a board within them. "You\'re not alone with strangers now, Pek Wan." Inspiration broke through his mind like a dam bursting. He told her what he suspected that she needed to hear. "You\'re with your three brothers and we care what happens to you." His gaze over her shoulder dared Matt and Century to contradict him. Neither did, though Century raised his eyebrows and busied himself with shaking out a quilt. Matt watched them, his thoughts hidden inside.



Deontic really cried, in a way that none of them had thought her capable. Mello held her closely, rubbing her back, while Century arranged the bedding onto the mattress. Matt pulled free one of the quilts and placed it on the settee, smoothing it out and adding a pillow. Century nodded and they both stood there awkwardly. Mello, though, rocked the woman in his arms, murmuring platitudes and comfort. "I\'m sorry!" She gulped out, finally.



"It\'s alright." Mello smiled. "It\'s alright. Get it out of your system. It\'s alright." But all the time, Mello\'s mind was buzzing, telling him that this wasn\'t right. He secretly wondered if it was Deontic going mad this time.