Mello and Near looked upon L’s grave, it was a beautiful cross, smooth marble with the name L Lawliet engraved with perfect precision.  Near sat, with his knees up to his chest, Mello stood beside him, still gun in hand from previous activities, but he just had to come and see him, they had to come see him.  It hadn’t been that long since L died but to Mello and Near it felt like an eternity, neither were quite the same again; Near stopped twisting his hair around his finger, and his normal stoic countenance was replaced with one of misery.  And Mello had laid his chocolate down on the table one too many times; people knew he was horribly bothered.  At the grave they did not speak, until Mello threw his gun onto the ground and stepped right in front of L’s grave.

“Goddammit L!  Why did you allow that bastard to kill you!?  I know you better than that, you could have won, you should have won, why did you let your defenses down!?” the blonde man shrieked, pounding his fists against that cold marble, over and over, he was sure they would bruise, but that was the least of his concerns.  

“Mello…” Near tried to protest softly.

“NO, just shut the fuck up Near!” Mello screamed, tears streaming down his face.  He turned back to the grave and continued his cries, “You were my mentor and my guide Lawliet!  I can never find anyone to replace you, there will be NO ONE ELSE that can replace you Lawliet!”  Mello’s face grew softer, his words less angry, “Why did you have to leave me…  Who’s going to protect me now?”  he sobbed, wrapping his arms around L’s grave, crying on that stone, and asking the age-old question, “Why?  Why did you have to die?”  He slid down the grave until he was on the ground, still crying, still hugging the slab of cold marble, the only thing he would have left to remember L, except for photos that will eventually fade from the sun and become old and fragile.