Secret Screams, a death note fanfic

I do not own Death Note or the characters, or I obviously wouldn't be writing on this site!

"Why? What do you have to gain from the whole thing?"

"Gain?!" Mello's eyebrows arched in an unnatural way as he yelled, "What does it matter what I have to gain?! You're my best friend; you're supposed to do what I say!"

Matt scratched at a spot on the back of his head as quickly as possible so that his hands could go back instantly to his game, "I don't think you know the proper definition of friend, Mello."

The blonde growled loudly and stomped about as if that would change things. He had to think of something, anything, to get Matt off his ass.

"Alright, how about this; will you come help me if I… I don't know, clean your room for a week?"

"We share a room. Wouldn't you have to clean it anyways?"

"Not your side!"

"My side is already clean."

The boy clenched his hands at his hips. He wanted to let his anger out… unfortunately Near was nowhere in sight and banging your own head against the wall just didn't seem like much of a stress reliever.

He growled slightly, reaching for his chocolate, "Come on, Matt!"

Surprisingly there was a slight musical tune to his left and he looked over in time to see Matt closing the lid to his game. He stood up, adjusted his goggles, and shoved the system into his overly large pocket.

"Alright. What do you want me to do?"

He was sitting in a room by himself. All around him was darkness, the only light shining off of him, reflecting against his pale skin and hair. He felt a breeze against his chest and looked down. He was shirtless and below that ill fitting jeans scratched uncomfortably at his legs. He wrapped his arms around himself for a moment, both from fear and from the cold.

"Where am I?"

"Are you serious?"

Mello had a nasty smile on his face as he replied, "Come on Matt. You know you want to."

"No. I don't."

"You don't know or you don't want to?" He paused, but continued without getting an answer, "Nevermind. Either answer would be a lie."

Matt pressed a hand to the pain in his temple, "Do I have to?"

"I don't think you realize this," Mello said, standing up straighter and clenching and unclenching his fists, "But my ability to be polite is very limited."

The gamer hesitated for a moment. Mello usually geared his anger toward the other kids and left him alone, after all he'd deemed him worthy of the title best friend. Unfortunately even best friends, he rubbed at his arm as he thought, fight from time to time.

"Alright you get the staple gun and I'll get the sheets."

He stood up slowly, knees quaking as if ready to give out any moment.

"Hello?" No answer. "Mom?"

He wanted her. Needed her to be there. Where was she? It wasn't like her to leave him alone. She'd always been there to answer his calls. Why wasn't she answering?

"Mom!?"

Suddenly a man stepped up to the ring of light, his frame barely silhouetted in it. The boy started to back away, but there was nothing but black nothingness behind him.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll be quiet…"

And the man reached a hand toward him, taking him by roughly by the shoulder. The boy felt his whole body begin to tremble as he stood awaiting what he knew was about to happen.

Matt crouched down on the floor as Mello opened the door to Near's room.

"Oh, get up!" Mello said in a harsh whisper, "He's asleep, he can't see you. Just try not to make any noise. Alright? And no games!!"

The boy nodded that he understood and raised himself from the ground. On their last adventure Matt had forgotten to turn the sound off on his system and, oddly enough, the sound of his death in-game alerted Roger to their hiding place, therefore sealing their death in the real world.

Across the room Near was laying in bed, curled up tightly, clutching a rubber duck in his grasp as if its wings could break from its sides and it would fly away. There was a strange look on his face, but neither of the newcomers bothered to look upon it. No one noticed the young boy's tears.

He tried to look at the man, tried to keep his gaze focused and clear, but the fear was too strong and he broke the connection. Looking away was never good. It was never what he was supposed to do. The fear in his eyes would sometimes slow things, but he just couldn't take the hatred upon the man's face any longer.

His gaze landed upon the floor.

Mello held the sheet carefully as Matt forced yet another staple into it.

"There, that should do it," Matt said, "What do you think?"

The blonde looked at his creation. All he could really see was brightly colored fabric where Near's bed should have been. The two boys had spent the past ten minutes stapling the sheet first to the wall, where it remained raised above the bed, then to the floor along the sides and then finally to the floor at the foot of the bed. Near was completely enclosed now.

"Wait till he wakes up tomorrow!"

Matt crossed his arms, "What do you want to bet that no one will notice he's missing until second period?"

"Ha! I make it third…" Mello's voice trailed off then, "Shhh! I think he's waking up."

"What?"

Mello knocked Matt on the head, silencing him.

He was thrown to the ground, pain upon his cheek. He wanted to shout something, anything, but no words would leave his broken lips. The taste of blood reminded him that silence had always been better.

He closed his eyes as he waited for the next hit.

There was a groan from behind the sheets and a sound as something hit the floor with a squeak. Near was tossing and turning in his bed, the creaking of the bed audible from the doorway.

"Are we done now?" Matt asked, obviously oblivious, "Can I go to bed?"

Mello stood in the doorway for a moment and nodded at his friend. He, however, didn't move even when Matt left. He stood still for a moment longer before the frustration kicked in.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mello whispered angrily to himself, "Don't be stupid."

The boy turned indifferently toward the door, until he heard the desperate moan from inside the sheet fortress.

"No… Please…"

He raised his hands over his face to protect it. He could feel a pressure rising in his throat and he couldn't contain it. As the man loomed above him he felt the air from his lungs escape in a tormented scream.

Mello fell backwards from the shock of the scream, but a moment later he was on his feet again. He was struggling with himself. You hate Near, his mind reminded him, You hate him!

But despite that fact he found himself lunging forward, pressing a hand against the sheets.

The boy behind them was crying loudly, sobs mixing with shouts of pain. Mello was clawing desperately at the soft walls, but nothing was coming of it.

Finally he found a gap along the floor and slid a finger into it. He slowly tried to tear the sheet from the staple, and his voice cracked as he shouted, "Near!?"

There were hands on his chest. Hands on his face. Cold hands. The man's eyes were red with anger and resentment as he backed away slowly. A voice sounded through the darkness, a voice so close to his ear, he could feel the breath. The cold hands shook him…

"Near! Wake up!" Mello stood above the bed, surrounded in tattered linen, and shook the younger boy with hands upon his chest. When that didn't work he put both hands on the boy's face and patted it, "Near!"

Finally his eyes popped open and his hands flew to his face, knocking Mello's away. He sat up suddenly, "No! Please!"

Mello quickly sat behind him on the bed, wrapping his arms roughly around the shaking boy, trying to hold him still, "Stop! Near, it's just me! It's just Mello! Stop it!"

Tears rolled down Near's whitewashed face and his breath came to his lungs in choppy gasps. Slowly realization hit him and his body went limp as he leaned into the embrace. He rolled over and pressed against Mello's chest.

"What was that?" Mello asked, accepting the arms around his stomach grudgingly, "I've never seen you so… afraid."

"Don't go," Near whispered quietly, "Please, stay here…"

The older boy was silent for once in his life as he sat. His shirt clung to his chest with tears that were not his own and he didn't know what to do or say. Here he was with the quiet wonder boy. The likely successor to L. The emotionless prodigy that he completely loathed… But Near's face was stricken with emotion now. The pain was etched so deep that Mello wondered why he'd never noticed it before.

Slowly things were silent again. Even the sounds of the night were in a hush right now. Nothing could be heard but the steady breathing of a broken boy who finally slept again.

Mello could not sleep.

You hate him! You like his pain! His mind battled itself. No! I like to cause his pain, not watch it devour him!

He was still awake when the sun's light began to trickle in the window. Slowly he slid himself from the bed, easing Near onto a soft pillow. Without a sound he pulled the sheets down and turned to leave.

Then a whisper broke the silence.

"…Thank you…"

Mello turned back to see the young boy laying quietly, his eyes still closed, but his hand twirling his hair sleepily. Was he awake… or was he talking in his sleep?

Either way it didn't matter. Mello turned and walked from the room, never to speak of this night again.

"You hate him," he whispered as he walked slowly away, "You do."