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Annals of Fear II	By : DeathNoteFangirl Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > Mello/Matt Views: 5803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note and I do not make any money from these writings

Chapter List
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The sun was low in the sky as they walked down the slope.   It existed as a slightly luminous smear, behind thick, grey clouds, but the sight of it had galvanised Kiana into urgent whispers with her boyfriend.    At the chalets, Hal had broken away to speak with Lauren and Valerie.    Mello, Matt, Deontic and Century continued on, trudging up, through a chill wind, to the second storey of the chalet block and, from there, into Century's study.

Piles of books lay open or sprouting bookmarkers.   Maps, covered in pins and ink, were tacked to the walls.    A microfiche reader glowed softly yellow.    Heat rose from it.   Century grimaced and quickly switched it off.    He stood, staring blankly at the dark screen, struggling to get his breath back.    There was the sound of hurried footsteps outside and Fenian pushed open the door, left ajar for him, and slipped inside.    Kiana had not followed.   A wary watchfulness filled the room.    Fenian closed the door, with an audible click, behind him.   Deontic jumped at the sound.   Mello had spotted the two easy chairs, as soon as he had walked through the door.   He sat in one, watching the others, with a faintly smug smile.    Deontic quickly took the other. It was political.   It stopped Matt taking it and the couple lording it over them, like monarchs on their thrones.    Matt didn't acknowledge her presumption, even with a glance.   He trudged to Mello's corner and sat on the floor, his back against the wall and his legs out-stretched, trailing beneath Mello's.   There he quietly took his laptop out of its cover and opened the lid.   While he waited to have something to type, Matt chewed on a bit of stitching in his glove.

Century switched on his desktop computer.    They all watched the OS load.   Fenian crossed to stand in front of the window. His attention seemed half on the view outside, but none of them believed for one moment that he wasn't fully alert to what was happening in that room.   Century bent awkwardly over his keyboard, concealing his password from view, as he typed it in.   He would change it again, at the earliest opportunity, because he knew without asking that Matt would have counted the key-strokes.   The silence dragged on, punctuated now by Fenian starting to tap a finger against his own thigh.   Mello snapped off the second strip of chocolate, from a fresh bar.   Century sucked on his lollipop, transferring its bulk into the other cheek.    Deontic read the titles of books, stacked in a reasonably tidy pile, against the wall.    She had already cast her gaze over those that had obviously already been referenced. But they'd all done that.

"It looks like it's going to start fucking raining again."   Fenian told the window.   Mello smirked. He had mentally predicted that, if the silence dragged on, it would be Fenian who would have to break it.   "Herself won't be pleased with that."

Before anyone could reply, Century's screen turned white.    He had been about to open up a document to show them, but now a large, Old English font 'C' filled the centre of the monitor.   They all looked.   Century sighed and answered it, before the call automatically switched to his telephone.   "Chrissie." He sniffed, then, "Not alone."

She paused for just a fraction of a second. "Who?"    She waited, while Century activated his webcam and showed her.

Chrissie kept her tone light.   "Oh. Proper school reunion.   No Fenian?"

Fenian looked up from the window-ledge.   "I'm here.   Wish I wasn't fucking here, but I'm here."

Mello smirked, "Then you may go home. I know my geology too. I'm sure I can examine a rock."

"Sounds like a laugh a minute there." Chrissie interrupted, in a tone of voice that said firmly that she wasn't here to listen to them bicker.   "Century, I thought this was going to get you on your mobile.   You surely haven't had time to get checked out at the hospital and return."

"Mello said it's a panic attack."   Century murmured, miserably.

Chrissie's breath snagged, "Pardon?"    No-one replied.   "Century, you're not the panic attack type; and don't give me any shit about that night in the manor house.   From what I've heard and read, everyone panicked.   It's just that the other three aren't admitting it.    And you look like death warmed up."    Century bowed his head and shrugged.   Behind him, Deontic and Mello were both staring across at the screen; neither of their faces betrayed an emotion.   Matt continued to look at his own laptop's screen, as he clicked through his e-mails.    He acted like he didn't even know anyone else was in the room, let alone speaking to it via the Watari system.    On the windowsill, Fenian lit a cigarette, without asking if he could in Century's study.    Chrissie sighed.   "Salvo's willing to drive there.   Do you want him to?"

"No." Century's gaze slid away, dismissively.   For the briefest moment, his body language belied this sentiment.   Five pairs of eyes watched it happen; five minds, trained in registering and reading non-verbal communication, understood instantly that Century would be grateful for Salvo's presence.   But then the Welshman realised all that he was giving away and forced a neutrality into his stance.   It was almost clumsy in its textbook precision.   They could have all passed a test, in counting off the ways in which he did it.   They had learned the method alongside him.    Even as a child, Century had never been so obvious in its execution.   Five sharp intellects analysed why he should be now; and each drew their own conclusion.

Mello, however, was already a step ahead, deducing how Chrissie would interpret it.    He shifted his gaze from Century to the tiny lens of the webcam.   "Chrissie, don't send Salvo."   He knew that he would have to qualify that.   "There are too many people here.   It's causing clashes.   I've already had to prioritise scaling down over actually solving this case once today." She didn't reply.   Mello understood. He hadn't answered her silent question.   "No, Century didn't have panic attacks. But 18 years of nonchalance caught up with him, two months ago.    You just haven't seen him since."

"Oh! Fuck..." Century started, scathingly.

"Fenian. Tell her." Mello directed.

All eyes turned to the Irishman.   Fenian sucked on his cigarette.     "She knows."

Chrissie made an impatient noise.   "Fenian, you're a trained paramedic.   Should he, or should he not, have his arse up the hospital?    Mello, shut it."

Fenian grinned; but Mello just sat back, flicking his hair from his face with a jerk of his head.    Fenian flicked ash into a pocket ashtray.   "Chrissie, if Century needed to be up there, I'd not be fucking standing here talking to you about it.   I'd have your man up the fucking hospital."

Century glared daggers at him.   Deontic stood up, collected a piece of scrap paper from the table and took it back to her seat.   As she began folding it into an origami shape, Mello reached across and rubbed her shoulder.    She didn't react.   Chrissie asked, briskly, "How close are you to wrapping this case up?   I mean, there are five of you there.   How many does it actually take?"

That rankled with all of them, as Chrissie had known it would.    Matt, as ever, was unresponsive, tapping away at his machine.   Deontic straightened in her seat, her back even more ram-rod than usual.   Fenian's cigarette stilled in its passage, halfway to his mouth.   Mello's head shot up, his eyes wide and his mouth animated, before it even opened for him to attempt to speak.   But Century yelled, "Fucking trying, I am!" His lollipop was out of his mouth and in his hand, being jabbed into the direction of the easy chairs.    "Up by there and close, when Mello goes sticking his big, fat nose in it!     Could have solved it by now, see, if he hadn't nicked off with my fucking car keys!"   He slammed his lollipop down onto the desk, where it shattered into sharp, sticky pieces.    Then he rose angrily, with a glance at the door.   They all thought that he was going to storm out, but, instead, he stopped dead.   His hands went down to the desk and he stooped over it, head bowed to his chest and his face concealed behind a curtain of black hair.

The silence that followed was not so much stunned, as contemplative.    That emitting from the speakers was too absolute, as if Chrissie no longer had the microphone button depressed.    Fenian opened up his pocket ashtray and stabbed the butt of his cigarette repeatedly into it.   "Cent."   He started, but didn't seem to know what else to say.    Deontic was equally awkward, her hands shaking at her origami.

"Iestyn."   Mello gripped the arms of his chair and propelled himself upwards in the same movement.    He danced a couple of steps into a stride and was in front of Century, when Chrissie next spoke.

"Ok, Salvo's going to come and fetch you.   If it follows you back here, we'll just deal with..."

"No!" Mello waved back the decision.   "Let me handle this."   He took Century's shoulders in his hands and was pushed back. "Ok!"   Mello's hands went up in surrender.    Century's eyes flashed into his direction, swimming with tears, but filled with fury. Mello's tone dropped.   "It's not my fault that you haven't got the wit to escape me and go up there anyway."   His eyes narrowed, as he saw Century's fist clench, but the teenager didn't attempt to hit him.

Chrissie tutted, "Mello."

It prompted Fenian to speak up.   "Will you leave him the fuck alone?"

Mello raised a hand, palm towards Fenian, to shut him up.   "Chrissie's right.   The old Century wouldn't have let himself get cornered like this.    He'd have looked utterly bemused, then waited for the opportunity to get the Hell out of here.   Fuck car keys, you've only just had the car.   You never needed one to run away before.    Every one of us has made it his, or her, life's work to make it look like nothing can rattle us. You're the only one I actually believed."   He moved, as Century moved, blocking his path. "Is it because you had a heart attack?"   He peered up into Century's face.   The teenager looked mortified, as well as defeated.   "Or because it's Welsh?"   Century had turned away.   Mello stayed where he was, between Century and the door.   "Or because you think I'm packing heat and I'll shoot you, if you try to run?"

"Mello!" Chrissie bellowed.

"I'm not."   Mello replied, urgently.    He shrugged his red coat down, off his shoulders, onto the floor, then flapped the hem of his t-shirt about his waist.    He turned full circle, on the spot, patting himself down.   "Look.   No weapons.   Just me."   His eyes never wavered from watching Century's head.   Mello's expression was of injured innocence.   "I wouldn't do that to you."

Century held out his hand.   His gaze followed.   The tears had been blinked away, but they looked close by.   "Give me my car keys."

"Let me tell you why I've held them back."   Mello gushed.   "It's because you have a huge respect for history, but none at all for religion.   Whatever has been shut up in there is encased in religion.    It's in a Catholic chapel.   It's manifesting as something supernatural.   That's my forte and so it makes sense that I'm with you, when you open the altar.   I might see something that you miss; not because you're any less intelligent, but because you're not looking as a Catholic."   He blinked.   "Or any other spirituality. Obviously."

"No."   Century countered, bitterly, his hand returning to the table.   "You want to be there because it would kill you not to be.   Let Century come out on top, in a case that Mello is playing for?    Likely, is it?   No."

Fenian pushed away from the windowsill.   "You know, I only had a few swigs.   I'm probably not even over the fucking limit. Let's go."

Mello didn't take his eyes off Century, though he spoke to the Irishman. "So you'd go there, knowing what this thing is capable of, without knowing the background?   Without even having those clues when, if, things go wrong afterwards, and you're required to think on your feet.     Because I know that I'd prefer to know what I'm walking into."   He smiled disarmingly at Century, his whole demeanour radiating friendliness.    "I kept you alive last time, didn't I, Century?    I thought we'd finally reached an understanding.   Made it possible to work together."

"Then you tried to take my case off me."

Mello shook his head.    "If you look at it, you'll see it was actually the other way around."   He smiled fondly at the younger man.   "I took the commission and I respected your abilities enough to request your assistance during my investigation.   Only to discover that you've not only initiated a separate inquiry, but you're inviting me to join it.    At which point did you assume that my investigation was closed?    Because, as far as I'm concerned, it's been on-going since August.   You were only privy to part of the process."   Mello winked, as Century looked stunned.   "And it's a measure of how much I still respect you, that the worst you've experienced from me, is a temporary diversion, when you've uncovered a potentially key piece of evidence."   He watched Century's shoulders sag and witnessed the fierce disappointment in the man's eyes.   "I'm willing to work with you on this one, but don't make me out to be a monster, when all you've had from me is compassion and respect."

"Ha!"   Fenian exclaimed from behind him.   Mello risked a glance in his direction.   Until now, Mello had been trusting that Matt was watching Fenian, despite the redhead's apparent absorption with the contents of his in-box.    Matt could occasionally zone out into cyberspace or the pixel world of a new game, though Mello wondered if even those times were Matt just ignoring him to make him go away.    Though, granted, there were some very notable incidents of his husband taking his eye off the ball.   But they tended to be during prolonged periods of surveillance, with nothing really interesting to see.   Not now. Not surrounded by fourth generation Wammy House alumni, with the atmosphere dripping tension.   As expected, Fenian was several feet away, agitated, but not coming any closer.

Chrissie commented from the speakers, "Sorry, boys, I'm with Mello on this one.   You took his case."

Mello's face lit up and he beamed. "Thank you, Chrissie."   He turned and strolled to the edge of Deontic's chair, then leapt up to perch on the back of it, one foot on the arm and the other swinging.    He had them all in his sights now and he was within reach of the door.    "Century, I called on you because there is an historical element to this case, and you're the best there is." He watched Century move back to his computer chair and sit down.   The teenager still looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.   His lips moved, in what could have been an apology, but there were no vocal chords behind them.   Fenian stood beside Century, with his hands in his coat pocket. His eyes flickered frequently towards the darkening skies through the window.    Mello pressed a hand onto Deontic's shoulder, feeling, rather than seeing, how that startled her.   He leaned down, "Would you mind awfully passing my chocolate please?"   He squeezed her shoulder, in apologetic reassurance, then let go.   She reached for it, on the arm of his abandoned chair, and held it up.   Mello smiled at her and took it.   "Thank you."

Chrissie went on, "But the priority has to be Century's health.   You can't tell me that he's fine, when I'm sitting here looking at him."

"He's not having a heart attack."   Mello replied, licking his chocolate.

"No." Chrissie conceded.   "But everyone's," she placed a heavy emphasis on the word 'everyone's', "mind will be put at rest, if he just went and got himself checked out."

Fenian took a step forward.   "I'll take him.   Come on, Century."

Century glanced at him and then Mello, but it was Mello who spoke.   "No."   A grin formed over the chocolate.   "You really need to be with Kiana."   Mello's eyes glinted, as they surveyed how Fenian froze.   "It's Hallowe'en and it's gone dark.   Pagan fire festival?    Bonfire on the beach?     Some kind of ritual that, presumably, involves a dram of the hard stuff.   That's where Kiana is now, while you're stuck here dealing with us lot."   He knew from Fenian's carefully controlled expression that he was right.   Mello's gaze moved to fix upon the back of Deontic's head.   "And you wondering how safe it is."   Mello returned to staring at Fenian, as soon as he sensed Deontic about to turn around.   "Protecting our women is paramount.   Go to Kiana. I'll take Century to the hospital and deal with whatever needs dealing with.   I think we're good now."

"I'll come too."   Deontic interjected, hurriedly, looking at Mello.

Through the speakers, Chrissie echoed, incredulously, "Protecting our..."

"Thank you, Dee." Mello smiled down at Deontic.   "That would put a few minds at rest.   Those people who insist on perceiving me as a monster, even when I turn the other cheek on a world of provocation."    He saw the look that passed between Century and Fenian.   "I'm willing to work together on this one.   Even if you have ridden roughshod into my case, without any heed of what investigations of mine you might be invalidating.   But I won't sit by and watch you disturb a scene, and possibly contaminate the evidence, without asking questions.    Would you agree that that is fair enough?"

Century nodded slowly.   His agreement was barely a breath, so quietly was it exhaled, "Yes."

"Because anything else would be amateur."   Mello snapped off a block of chocolate and held it between his teeth.   Fenian and Century were both staring at him, trying to work out if he had just called them amateurs.   Mello frowned and looked backwards, at his husband.   "How old would L have been today?"

Matt paused in his scrolling, "Thirty two."

"Really?" Mello reacted with surprise, though he could have answered the question himself.   "Hard to imagine him being that old."   He jumped down from the back of Deontic's chair and stood, surveying Fenian and Century.    The chocolate was pulled into his mouth, then noisily chewed.   Mello grinned and sprinted the handful of paces forward, with his hand extended. "Shall we shake on it then, gentlemen?"

Fenian stared in alarm at the hand before him.   "Shake on what?"

"On the new era of openness, trust and transparency, wherein you may morally and ethically give yourself permission to leave us to it."   Mello gave up in waiting for someone to shake his hand and patted Fenian's arm instead.   "Whereupon the scumbags of Aberystwyth, drawn to investigate fires on the beach in darkness, may find that the lovely Kiana is protected by the Fianna."

"Fian. One."   Fenian replied, stonily.   "Fianna is plural.   And it doesn't even make sense in that context, unless you're all coming with me.   You haven't got a fucking clue what you're name-dropping."

Century gave a heavy sigh.   "He means fénnid.   Fenian, just go. I'll be fine."

Fenian tore his gaze from Mello to look at Century, then to the window behind, where night had undoubtedly descended.   He glanced at Mello again, before taking in the monitor, with its big 'C' still adorning the whole screen.   "Can I not persuade you to put off any more investigating until tomorrow?"

Through the speakers, Chrissie snorted, "Spoken like a true Watari boy. You just want to be involved, Fenian."

Century shook his head, hunting through his pockets for a new lollipop.   "I won't take my eyes off Mello and he won't take his eyes off me, until we've opened the damn thing up."   He frowned, as his fingers produced a stick without the head attached.   "And I'm not sleeping between him and Matt tonight."

"Threesome, Mail?"   Mello laughed, breezily. Matt looked up, but didn't reply.   His mouth curled at the corners, into the faintest of smiles, around his burning cigarette.    Mello licked his lips at him, then returned his attention to Fenian.   "Sorry, my bike's up there.   Got to go and fetch it."    The Irishman looked unsurprised by their response.   He turned away to check that he had left nothing on the windowsill.    "And as for sleeping with Century,"   Mello's gaze travelled over the length of Fenian's auburn hair, to where the pony-tail curled at the nape of his neck, "I much prefer redheads."

Fenian's head whipped back around, "Quit while you're fucking ahead, tosser."    He squared his shoulders, inspecting Century. "How about yourself?   You sure you don't want me to stay?"    He waited until Century nodded, before marching to the door, with his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets.   "Call me when it all goes fucking wrong."    There was a sharp blast of icy air, as he strode off into the night.

Author's Note: I've been asked to set up a discussion forum on my website for these stories. You can find it here: http://mrsjeevas.joharrington.co.uk/forum/viewforum.php?f=11
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Annals of Fear II