Watari Pt 2: Wammy's House

"Mello and Matt are coming down the stairs!" Daton screamed into the common room and several children scrambled from their seats to career after him into the reception hall.



Ann bellowed from the landing above, "Give them room to breathe!"



Holiday danced on the balls of his feet at their side. "Mello, can I see your gun please?" His eyes scoured the leather jacket. "Where do you keep it?" Their idol carried on walking, his hand firmly clasped in Matt\'s. "Aw! Please, Mello!"



"What cases are you working on?" Daton asked. "Is it anything involving engineering? Because I\'m so good! Can I work with you?"



"Children." Ann was descending in their wake, watching as the redhead and the blond appeared to pick up speed as they crossed the wide hallway. "Please leave them alone. Mello and Matt have to go home now."



"Matt! I\'m Sophie." The teenage girl ran across the floor, clutching a laptop. "I\'ve written my own Trojan, can I show you please?"



There was a sudden yanking jolt and Matt\'s hand came free of Mello\'s. He leaned backwards as he turned, narrowly avoiding being recaptured, but Mello got him on the second swipe. "Mail, we\'re going home."



"Sophie would like to show me her Trojan." Matt spoke lazily, but Mello was not fooled for an instant. He glanced up at Ann, who just nodded and positioned herself at the foot of the stairs, directly between Matt and Roger\'s office door. His attention though appeared fully on the flushing girl. "You wrote it yourself?" He took the laptop from her and Mello had no option but to release his hand now. Nevertheless, the blond loitered beside him, ready to pounce at the slightest indication that he was going anywhere but out of the front door. Matt stood on one leg, balancing the laptop on an upraised thigh, as he inspected the code. "Nice work. Unfortunately your bypasses are already out of date. I can think of half a dozen common anti-viruses that would pick it up in an instant. May I please make some suggestions?" He sat with her on the bottom stair.



While this was going on, Mello was being beseiged. There were questions and comments about a range of topics, including his scar, his weaponry and his detective work. They appeared remarkably well-informed and not all of it could be attributed to his telling, that time in the dining room, of the capture of Kira. But Mello had no time for this. Though Ann was firmly on-side, he doubted that even she appreciated how much of a ticking timebomb Matt was right now. Ann probably anticipated a freeze or tears, but that was too shallow a layer to read. Mello\'s temper was legendary, they all expected it from him, and so it had always eclipsed the rarely activated silent malice of the redhead. In their whole history, Mello had never seen Matt so furious. If it had been all fire and screaming, then that would have been alright. Mello could have deflected and calmed it. This was different. If Mello was reading this correctly, and he was damn sure that he was, Matt was capable right now of cold-blooded murder.



"Mello," Pwyll bellowed, pogo-ing on the spot with his hand in the air. He was nine years old and trying to be heard over the bigger, louder children. "Did it hurt when you got burned?"



Mello smiled, but his eyes were dark and slitted. He didn\'t need to raise his voice to command authority. "Alright, everyone. We\'ll continue this tomorrow." Around him, the children instantly fell silent. They were twitching nervously, even in their disappointment, as their instincts registered a man who was not to be trifled with. "Matt\'s not feeling well, and I need to get him home so he can rest."



On the bottom stair, to all extents and purposes, Matt appeared docile. The laptop had been returned to its owner, but he was leaning over it with her pointing to where she should add the lines that he was dictating from memory. He didn\'t look up, as he spoke, his tone way too casual, "I\'m feeling much better now, Mello. It\'s ok. I\'m helping Sophie with her Trojan."



"You can contact Sophie from home. I don\'t want you getting worse again, or infecting the other children. Let\'s go." Mello smirked, as Matt looked up, communicating non-verbally the dire fate in store if the redhead did not move right now. He was not the only one to perceive it. Young geniuses across the room were stepping away from him; most of them were trying to determine precisely how he had frightened them without moving much nor shouting. Mostly though, nervousness hung in the air. "Let\'s go, Mail."



There was suddenly a gasp, then a shriek of panic from across the hallway. It was Kato, arriving out of the common room, having judged time enough had passed that the men would have gone, but now confronted with the Mafioso monster of her nightmares in person. Ann exhaled. "Mello, this is Kato, Neuron\'s sister. I need to speak to you about her tomorrow." She moved forward, swiftly enough for her weight. "Kato, darling, it\'s alright." The second she shifted from her position, Sophie was suddenly shoved, laptop and all, into Mello\'s arms; and Matt ran.



Mello didn\'t waste words shouting. He dumped the girl unceremoniously onto the floor and belted after his husband as fast as he could. Mello was faster. He lunged at the last moment, colliding with Matt just short of Roger\'s door and knocking them both past it. They landed in a sprawling heap on the floor, Matt clawing and kicking to be released, but Mello springing straight back up again to straddle and pin him down. Menace dripped from his tone. "Stop it right now."



Children clustered around the stairwell, peering around bannisters and the interconnecting walls. Kato screamed hysterically. Matt stared beyond Mello\'s deadly glare, towards the office door, trying to glean whether Roger was going to emerge or not. It felt like the whole room held its breath, though Ann was making soothing noises to the child, whilst trying to ascertain precisely what was happening just out of view behind the staircase. But only Mello was close enough to witness the quick calculations betrayed in Matt\'s eyes. He was reaching the conclusion that, in all probability, he could neither physically or mentally out-manoeuvre Mello at this point. Even the blond\'s inherent paranoia and regard for the presense of the children would be secondary considerations against the priority of saving a life. Matt met Mello\'s gaze head on. "Ok."



It was enough. Mello knew his husband and he read the promise of capitulation now, in that single word and in the gaze that swam past him to take in the onlookers. Matt would be mortified now. They were all looking at him. Mello stood in one swift movement, grabbing a handful of fabric at Matt\'s collar, a single finger crooked around the metal beneath. Matt rose to his feet, but did not attempt to break free. "Ok, children, Matt here doesn\'t want to take his medicine and is being unco-operative." His voice darkened. "Let\'s go home, Mail."



The Wammy children moved back, like the parting of the Red Sea, and Roger\'s door never opened. Mello led Matt back to the stairs, not releasing his grip for an instant, as the redhead bent to collect his bag. The folders had been left in the meeting room. Ann called shakily, "Boys, please drive carefully and look after each other."



"Ann, it\'s what we do best." Mello shook his hair back and strode towards the door, towing Matt behind him. "We\'ll see you tomorrow for round two and, children, I promise to spend some time properly answering your questions then. Goodnight all." They were out, into the humid night, the air heavy with the scent of trees and flowers. Mello did not relax his hold until they were at the car and Matt was hurled into the road, towards the passenger door. "I\'m driving. You\'ve been a very bad boy, Mail Jeevas-Keehl, and I might have to take my belt to you when we get home."



The response was unexpected. "Fuck you."



Mello almost flinched, but caught himself in time. He paced around the car and fixed Matt with a murderous glare, before opening the door and manhandling him into the seat. "It\'s a quiet, respectable neighbourhood, Mail. Let\'s sort this out at..." Mello didn\'t see the punch coming until it connected with his jaw and he staggered back. "Fucking shit, Matt!"



The redhead hissed back, "Why aren\'t you on my side?"



"I am."



"You\'ve got a funny way of showing it." Matt turned himself around and kicked the dashboard, then lit a cigarette. Mello took the opportunity to press down the lock and slam shut the door, before racing around to the other side. He climbed in quickly and jammed the key into the ignition, wanting speed before his husband decided to leave the car. "You\'re protecting Roger," Matt\'s voice rose, "from me!"



Mello put his foot down. "I\'m not protecting Roger! I\'m protecting you from killing him. I don\'t want you to have to deal with the guilt of taking another life."



"That\'s fucking rich coming from you." Matt hand tapped an ever-increasing beat against his thigh. He reached and angrily unwound the window. Cool air breezed in, as he flicked his ash out of it. He sneered back, "You\'re doing this for my immortal soul?"



"No, but I remember the last time you killed someone. I remember holding you and stopping you shaking both times. I\'m there when you have nightmares over them." They were out on the dual carriageway now and Mello felt more secure with the speedometer dial creeping upwards. "He\'s not worth the cost."



Matt\'s fist clenched. He bent down and took his laptop from his bag. "Why are you going against me? Really?"



Mello sighed irritably, "I\'m not. You can\'t see it now, but I\'m not. I really am trying to help you."



There was a long, loaded silence. Matt cast his cigarette butt out of the window and immediately lit another. Mello thanked the Lord that the traffic lights remained on green, as he hurtled through them and onto the road towards Southampton. "You heard him though." Matt snapped eventually. "If I hadn\'t been taken, then my genius would be in the hands of ETA."



"Yes, but you were taken and now you\'re here."



Matt threw him a dirty look. "Maybe it\'s time that I learned more about ETA and went home."



"You are going home, Mail. I\'m driving you home." He glared at the road ahead. "And besides, learn about them all you like, but you\'re not their\'s, you\'re mine."



"It stands for Euskadi Ta Askatasuna." Matt quickly read through one site and clicked to another. "They are fighting for the separation of Basque Country currently... mostly falling within Spain, but a bit of France too. Killed over 800 people since 1968 and maimed many others. Listed as a terrorist organisation by the European Union, the United States and the Canadian government. Hey! At least the other continents like us."



"There is no \'us\' in that regard, Mail. There is no proof that Cisco Heras was your father." Mello had bit back other comments. He had wanted to say that he was well aware of who ETA were and maybe if there had been a video game released about them, Matt wouldn\'t have had to look them up. Mello could not keep silent about this sudden shift towards \'us\'. "Even if he was, you\'re not joining ETA. We\'ve got too much to do here."



Matt yelled, "You act like you fucking own me!"



Mello kept his eyes on the road, but his body tensed and his lips pursed. Real fear stabbed through him, but he held it tightly within in and let his mind throw up the solution. "Ok, Matty. That\'s fine." He scanned the forest road for a lay-by and found one up ahead. He hurtled past the illuminous parking sign and screeched to a halt. Matt turned to glare at him. Mello grinned without mirth, his movements jagged. "I can be as mutable as you can, guapo. If this is the way it is, then fair enough. I love you enough." He unhooked the selt-belt and reached across. Matt scuttled back against the door.



"What are you doing?"



"You don\'t want me to own you? Fine! We\'ll be partners. Equal footing." The blue eyes narrowed. "So I\'m going to undo your collar. You..."



"No!" Matt brought a foot up and placed it on Mello\'s slender chest. "I don\'t want you to." He bit his lip. "It was a bad choice of words."



"I find it difficult to imagine what other words you could have used in that context."



Matt swallowed. "Ok, you own me, but you\'re missing the point."



"No, your fucked up mind isn\'t supplying a logical point!" Mello held the foot against him. "Mail, I love you so much, but I swear that I want to kill you at times. I can\'t work out if this is you in hyperactive, reckless mode or if this is you actually cracking up! I mean, were you really going to kill Roger back there? Mess up the minds of a dozen children. Betray Ann\'s trust after she\'s reached out to you? And all of this crap now! For fuck\'s sake, Mail, what? What is it?"



Matt glowered, his mouth a thin strip beneath his goggles. It was too dark to read his eyes and Mello debated just getting them home, so they could argue in the light. Matt hid generally, it was what he did, but right now, he was hiding from him and Mello couldn\'t stand it. A cigarette rose to Matt\'s mouth and was lit. His voice finally was shot through with barely suppressed anger. "The point is this. My destiny was with ETA. You heard Roger. \'If you hadn\'t been taken, then your genius would be in the hands of ETA\'. It feels like there are two parallel universes opening up in front of me. In one, I\'m Milo Heras and I\'m doing what I can to advance the cause and to secure the Basque Country. As helpful as I can be to you, don\'t you think I could have been for them?"



"Yes, Matt. I can fully imagine your worth to them. Absolutely imagine it, crystal clear."



Matt didn\'t move, despite the reversion to his pseudonym and the sarcasm in Mello\'s tone. His husband had no idea what was going on in his mind and that frightened him. He continued carefully. "In the other, I\'ve been taken and I\'m Mail Jeevas. I have no idea what that means, except that if I accept it, then I\'m colluding with my own kidnap. It\'s brainwashing. It\'s Stockholm Syndrome at it\'s absolute finest."



"Right." Mello sat back. He reached for his chocolate from the dashboard and snapped off a corner. "Finally some clues. Thank you." He started the engine again and pulled the car out of the lay-by. As soon as they had picked up speed again, he asked, "And would you like my opinion on all of that?"



"I can\'t afford your opinion. You\'re way too expensive a detective, Mello." Matt had bent back over his laptop. "It technically costs me millions everytime you tell me what you want for your tea."



Mello sighed irritably. "You\'re really, and I mean really, fucking me off now." He glared at the road, but reached another deduction. "Oh, I see! You know that I\'m going to say the things that part of your brain has already concluded, but you don\'t want to hear them. Tough."



"They don\'t see themselves as terrorists. What the fuck is a terrorist anyway? One person\'s terrorist is another\'s freedom fighter. It\'s always been like that. Seen from another angle, it\'s actually a war." Matt hurried on every time Mello tried to speak. "Two countries have a difference of opinion and it\'s war; but if a people are fighting for their country, without the other party recognising that they even are a country, then it\'s seen as terrorism. So this would be directly proportional to, say, Croatia fighting off Serb control."



"Oh, for fuck\'s sake."



"That\'s seen as a civil war only because they were both Yugoslavia at the time, but what if the fracture hadn\'t occurred like that. It looked very much to me like Serbia was going to gain control of the entire region, but no, the Croats had something to say about that, as did the Bosnians, the..."



"Matt." Mello reached across to grab his hand. "You are Mail Jeevas. No, you are Mail Jeevas-Keehl. You are my husband and the most beautiful man that I have ever met. Milo Heras is in the past. He may never even have existed." He was aware of Matt staring at him. "They don\'t even know for sure if that man was really your father. You could have been kidnapped a lot earlier than you\'re imagining. Even if you\'re right. Even if you are Milo Heras and you had not been taken by Watari, do you honestly believe that the story would end in some great, romantic ideal with you as the republican hero? Let\'s stick to the facts, shall we? You were starving! Wammy did not cause the barricade situation. If we\'re completely honest, you did. Cisco Heras was dead and you were hiding, unable to get yourself out of your safe-hole. That is the moment when Wammy intervened. Right then. So what then? If he hadn\'t, you\'d have ended up in a Spanish orphanage... oh."



"Being adopted by a real family." Matt supplied the ending. "With a father who bought me games and sent me out to play."



Mello replied softly, "I really got through to you on that one, didn\'t I?" He squeezed the hand in his, then had to retract his own as a sharp bend beckoned on the road ahead. "None of which explains why you\'re searching the internet for ETA."



"I almost had a history." Matt bowed his head. "Almost." He closed the laptop. "I\'m ready to come home now."



"I\'m sorry I was so harsh." Mello could see the lights of their village up ahead. "And now you\'ve calmed down a notch, before you apologise for punching me, it\'s ok."



"To be honest, and forgive me for saying this, but you deserved it."



Mello glanced at him sharply, but his tone was conciliatory. "I did."



"Yet you don\'t regret it." Matt responded, carefully. "So you\'d do the same again."



"Yes."



Matt exhaled smoke, as the car headed up the track towards their house. "We\'re still at odds on this one. Who\'ll win, Mello?"



"Hopefully both of us. Or maybe Roger will keel over later for no reason and then you won\'t feel the need to kill him." He smirked and Matt laughed. The gates loomed in front of them and Matt entered the security code for access. Mello waited until they were in the yard, out of the car, before reaching for his husband and drawing him into a deep, loving kiss. "I do love you, Mail. I really do. I just want to help you. I know that you said about your history and I\'ll find it for you. I\'m going to work on this and put together what happened to you. Do you trust me to investigate this?"



"Wow." Matt pulled away and headed towards the backdoor. "Not many people can say that they\'ve got the world\'s greatest detective on their genealogical trail." Mello was stranded, nonplussed, in the centre of the yard. He ran forward only as Matt opened the door to their kitchen. But it was Matt who spoke first. "Ok, instead of fighting, how about we put our cards on the table and see if we can find some common ground? I\'ve had enough of you and Near as rivals to know how this dance is supposed to go and frankly I haven\'t got the energy to take you on."



Mello flicked the lightswitch and would have pulled the goggles from his husband\'s eyes, if Matt had not already stepped away. The redhead disappeared into the pantry to check the security and deactivate the house alarm. "Do you want me to go first?" Mello called after him.



"No, I will." Matt emerged from the pantry door and headed towards the kettle. "You were out of order at Wammy\'s House. You should have let me say my piece to Roger."



"I was saving a life. Even if he may have deserved it." Mello leaned against the table and watched him carefully. "I thought you were going to kill him."



"I was unarmed."



Mello snorted. "There is no such thing."



"So I\'m suddenly this resourceful genius, who can make weapons appear out of thin air?" Matt scowled. "How heart-warming."



"Name three ways to kill me right now." Mello sucked on his chocolate. "Imagine I\'m an old man."



Matt rolled his eyes. "I\'m standing between the knife rack and the sink. I have a selection of knives and a cupboard full of cleaning liquids. Would you prefer poison or a bomb? Or shall I just throw knives at you until you die?" He tapped the kettle. "Then again, it\'s tempting just to hit you over the head with this until your skull caves in."



Mello smirked. "No, I\'m in no way implying that you\'re a resourceful genius, who can make weapons out of thin air."



"You\'re just trying to make me laugh." Matt glowered. "And thinking about it, it\'s a sink! I could just fucking drown you."



Mello laughed, but judged it safe to move forward. He wrapped his arms around Matt\'s waist and set his chin on his shoulder. "Ok, here\'s the deal. Yes, Roger\'s a fucking arsehole and deserves practically nothing of what he gets. That doesn\'t mean that he deserves to die and you certainly don\'t deserve having to live with having killed him."



Matt yielded, leaning back against him and Mello felt relief coursing through his own veins. "I\'m just angry. I feel angry and let down."



"That\'s why I wanted to get you home, so I could calm you down properly." Mello nuzzled at his neck. Matt opened his mouth to speak, but bit it back. "I know what you were about to say. It was going to be some biting comment about the fact that I won\'t handcuff you and beat you up this week. To be honest, Mail, I really don\'t think it would help right now, as much as I\'m tempted to do it. You\'ve reverted to a default setting that has nothing to do with the nature of the actual problem." Mello licked his throat. "It\'s not insecurity, which is what is usually the problem with you. You\'ve not been abandoned, quite the opposite in fact. I could quite happily sexually possess you, but what would that achieve precisely?"



"You were right about Ann. She has been like a parent to us."



"Yes."



Matt stirred their drinks. "I\'ve solved the other puzzle."



Mello blinked. "Which other puzzle?"



"How to kill you." Matt smirked.



Mello grinned slyly and pulled the redhead around until he was facing him. Mello\'s lips hovered just a fraction away from Matt\'s own. "Ok, tell me how you\'d kill me. Or attempt it. I\'m easy."



"Right." Matt peered up into his eyes. For the first time, Mello had a clear view of those green orbs, but the only emotion they held was a Puckish mischief. " Mello, yes, there is a Hell and you\'re going to it; I\'ve never fancied you, I\'m just going out with you to disarm you so that I can be L; oh! And I\'m leaving you." He wriggled out of the embrace. "Now I\'m just going to take my tea and pack. I walk out and wait for you to kill yourself. Pwnt."



Mello watched him sit down at the kitchen table and take out his DS. "Then I\'ll be dead and what will you do?"



"Be victorious, because I\'d have solved the puzzle like a good Wammy\'s House kiddie. I wonder how much Roger would get for that one. Probably less than he\'d lose with you being dead and all." He switched the machine on and started loading his game, jabbing at the screen with the plastic stylus.



"Mmm." Mello reached out for a knife and held it over his own wrists. "I should probably just do it then. Save myself the pain of watching you leave."



"Of course, I\'d also start crying, because then I\'d be a widower." Matt smiled over his game. "And I\'d be sad." He glanced up at the knife still held between the cross bracelet and the edge of Mello\'s gloves. "Emo much?"



Mello threw the knife dramatically onto the floor, where it bounced and clattered against the table-leg. The back of his hand came to his forehead. "Oh! My Matty left me! I\'m already going to Hell! What\'s a little suicide in the face of all that?"



Matt frowned. "You\'re such a fucking queen. You\'re getting worse."



Mello laughed and rounded the table to lean against it, his leg touching Matt\'s thigh. When it solicited no reaction, but a steadfast concentration on the game, Mello straddled his lap and sat on it. There was the electronic sound of someone dying, captured between their chests, as Mello kissed him, passionately. Matt struggled against him, but it was too late. The mournful tune signifying \'game over\' was already playing. "Baby..."



"Mello, get off me." Matt pushed back. "I think you\'re mistaking me calming down for me entirely happy with this situation."



"No."



"Just because you\'ve got what you want, it doesn\'t make it all Mary Poppins."



Mello sighed, but jumped back off him. "I figured I\'d distract you for a bit, calm you down further and then talk in the afterglow."



"No, Mello." Matt scowled, standing up. "You thought you\'d overpower me and invade my personal space."



"Why must everything I do have an ulterior motive?" Mello frowned back. "Your personal space..."



"We\'ve been through this." Matt backed away towards the fridge-freezer. "The two foot space around me. My personal space, that you..."



"This," Mello peeled off his glove and held up his hand, his ring catching the light, "gives me the right to enter your personal space! We got married, Matty. Remember?"



"You haven\'t told me your point of view yet." Matt glared back.



"About what?"



Matt turned in exasperation and kicked the pantry doorjamb. "Arrrrrggggggggghhhhh!" He held onto the wooden and slowly banged his head against the back of his hand. "You are one of the most expensive detectives in the world. Try fucking detecting."



Mello retreated to the other side of the table, leaning against the sink to sip his hot chocolate. "Ok, listen. You are Mail Ricardo Sebasian Jeevas-Keehl, and that\'s that. You make your identity. Roger is just some stupid old psychologist who tries to fuck with our heads, but he can only fuck with you if you let him." He swooped to pick up the knife and to slot it back into the rack. "He\'s an arse, but that doesn\'t mean you should kill him."



Matt stepped back from the door, shaking his head. "But this has gone beyond names! I had a destiny!" His progress was halted by the other side of the doorjamb against his back. "Right now my main purpose in life is to keep you in feta cheese."



"I have to say that I\'m more than a little offended that you don\'t seem to think you have a purpose now. And what the fuck, Mail? You think this is about something so stupid?" Mello slammed down his mug before he threw it. Hot chocolate pooled around its base on the worktop. "Feta cheese?"



"And olives."



Mello sighed. "You helped capture one of the most terrible murderers this world has ever seen!"



"Yeah, remind me to show my grandchildren my shining medal."



"You\'re helping to shape the destinies of a number of children, who are going through something that we went through!" Mello took a couple of deep breaths. They didn\'t help. "You think being with me makes you nothing! That\'s what you\'re saying!"



"Oh God!" Matt groaned, rolling around the wall and into the pantry. He slid down, until he was sitting on the floor, then restarted his game.



Mello wasn\'t finished. He paced across to the doorway and stood in it. "You think that this isn\'t enough, and you\'d rather be a member of some resistance movement and help kill thousands for so-called freedom. Just because some fucking old man told you you might have been wrong about your name!"



"You\'re just confusing me with logic."



"Confusing you with..." Mello stopped and stared down. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Who knows, you could be right. Who the fuck knows?" He waited, but there was no response but the clicking of buttons at his feet. "But the day I confuse you with logic is the day..."



"Mello." Matt growled. He raised a gloved hand, pointing his finger. "For the record, I fucking hate it when you\'re right. Now go and be intelligent somewhere else. I\'m playing this."



Mello nodded. "All I know right now is that I love you, and I don\'t care what my destiny is, as long as I have you to share it with." He retreated, sitting quietly at the kitchen table, to finish his hot chocolate. Twenty minutes passed before he rose again and peered into the pantry. "Am I allowed to come into your bubble now?"



"You could try, but there\'s so much salad dressing and vinigrette bottles in here that you could end up breaking some." Matt replied. His head didn\'t rise from the game, even as Mello crouched in the limited space and smiled at the dig about his condiments. Matt exhaled. "I\'m sorry I hit you. I\'m sorry I shouted. I\'m sorry I\'ve been a pain in the arse. I\'m ready to come out of the pantry now." Mello leaned across to kiss his cheek, before rising and holding out a hand. "Let me just get this level first."