Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Happy now?

Warning: Matt's real name, character death, guns and crimes.

A/N: Yeah, I tried to get inside Matt's head. It was strange, I'll tell you that.

Matt stepped on the speeder, and the car moved forward. He took a cigarette out of the box, and placed it in between his lips. He found the lighter in his pocket, and lit it, inhaling the nicotine.

There was no use in stopping now. He was dying anyways. The cancer would never get him.

Matt half-grinned. At least there was something good about dying young. It would be painful, getting all those bullets in your body, but it was for a good cause.

Matt kept telling himself that. He was dying to help Near. To help Mello. To stop Kira. To save people. Or rather, to save some criminals.

He grimaced. Nice. He, Mail Jeevas, was dying to save some criminals. Way to die. This was what he had always dreamed of, dying to save some criminals. This was how he always had imagined dying. For sure.

Matt grinned. Too bad Mello wasn't here, to listen to his jokes. But Mello had to kidnap that Takada chick. Such a bitch, a Kira-lover and everything. But still, she was a girl, and Mello got to see her naked. Mello always got the good jobs.

Matt pulled out the gun, and shot. Perfect. Now, just drive. They'll follow like a bunch of puppies.

Mello better not get any good ideas, with that chick. He would be so dead, if he tried anything. Matt grinned.

Oh, right. Matt would be dead. He wouldn't be alive to kill Mello. He wouldn't be alive to punish him. He wouldn't be alive at all.

Not that Matt was afraid of dying. He wasn't. He liked to think that you came to a good place, something like heaven. With plenty of video games, hopefully. Even with all he had done, Matt still thought he was going to a nice place. He was doing this to help Mello help Near solve the Kira case.

The whole thing was so complicated.

Matt heard screaming tires behind him, but didn't bother to turn around.

If he was right, it would be around 15 minutes. 15 minutes 'till he died. Not much.

There was no turning back now. He hadn't done much, Matt realised. He had played video games, and helped Mello, and nothing more. He hadn't accomplished much, even though he was a genius, and number three in Wammy's.

20 years old, he had lived in 20 years, and he hadn't done a thing.

But according to Mello, this would help Near. And if Mello was going to help Near, something was seriously wrong. This Kira guy had killed L, so he had to pay. He had to rotten up in a prison somewhere, and regret what he did.

And if Matt's death helped Mello, he was okay with that. If Matt's death helped Near catch that Kira guy he wouldn't object. If Matt's death helped revenge L's death, Matt wouldn't complain.

Maybe he hadn't accomplished anything in his entire life, but if his death could help someone, he wouldn't complain.

And if he distracted those bodyguards, so that Mello wouldn't get killed, Matt was more than happy.

Matt jerked the wheel to one side, and made a sharp turn. Out of nowhere, he was surrounded by cars.

Fuck.

So, this had to be it. He was going to die. Matt inhaled. The nicotine calmed him somewhat.

He stepped out of the car, arms over his head. Might as well piss these guys off. He was going to die, so why not have a but fun before he died?

They raised their guns.

"Hey, hey. Since when is the Japanese task force allowed to have possesions of those nice arms?"

"Besides, you want to know from me where my accomplice has taken Takada to, right?"

"You can't possible fire at-"

3,2,1. Remember, this helps Mello. This helps Near. This helps catch Kira. This helps revenge L.

But Matt was afraid, anyway.

Bang. Bang, bang, bang.

Pain. Strong, burning pain in his chest. Right now Matt would have preferred dying of cancer at age 64. With Mello there, holding his hand as he died.

But it wasn't going to be like that. This would help them..

Screw that. He was afraid.

The darkness crept closer, and Matt felt strangely numb. Numbness was a sure sign. It was positive that he was going to die now. Matt wished he could feel, he wished he was alive. He wished Mello was here.

Inhale. Exhale. Matt used his last breath to take a drag of his cigarette, hoping it could calm him.

And with that, Mail Jeevas died.