A/N: Prompt for BrookeStardust on MangaBullet. She gave me the idea, I wrote it out. I had quite a bit of fun writing this, as dark as that sounds.
Yes, I know I should be working on BP, but I needed a few challenges/prompts to get my muse back.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.
The clock was ticking away, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.
Chocolate bars were abandoned on the old, wooden table. Videogames lay forgotten on the dirty carpet next to worn-out combat boots.
Only twenty-three hours, forty-six minutes, and thirteen seconds until the clock ran out of time for that day, until it moved on to the next to bring inevitable fate to the two young men sitting on tattered couches. A blond curtain of hair hid fearful eyes and a grim expression, while orange goggles rested on the same face as they had for years, blocking the emotions of emerald eyes from escaping.
Mello and Matt; M1 and M2.
Impulsive thoughts led to irrational actions, too late to try and change anything.
The two friends sat in silence, regrets hovering in the air.
But they couldn't back down now, not with twenty hours, thirty-three minutes, and fifty-eight seconds left. Each hour was split in half, making sure there were wasn't some kind of loophole in their schemes, and praying for a chance to live.
Eighteen hours were left. Sleep was a consideration, but neither man could find it in them to lay on the old bed in the corner, to try and find rest where there was none.
Why go to sleep to have a nightmare, if you were going to be living it in just sixteen more hours?
They were so close, so close to making the final sacrifice, just to bring themselves a few more steps further in bringing down a ruthless killer.
Was it even about that anymore?
Twelve hours, and still no words were uttered between the two of them. Perhaps it was better this way, to stay quiet and listen to the clock tick the hours away agonizingly slowly, or painfully fast. What was the soundless atmosphere making up for? Unspoken apologies? Unveiled fear?
It didn't matter, though. As soon as the plans were agreed upon, finalized, and stamped with death, everything else unrelated was unimportant. There was no room for trepidation; it was win all, lose all. Solve the puzzle, or die.
The twelve hours slowly ticked down to three, and short glances were passed back and forth.
One last hour before final actions were taken.
Fifty-nine minutes until self-sacrifice.
Fifty-nine seconds in expectation of saving the world.
Slowly, Matt and Mello rose from their seats to grab their necessary items. Weapons were placed in vehicles and inside trousers, with forty-nine minutes 'til death.
Ten minutes of driving to the predetermined location. Three minutes to cause a distraction. Six minutes to drive away. Twenty minutes to hide the woman in a remote location. Five minutes to be shot down. Two minutes left. One minute less.
They were dying, their breathing changing pace; sometimes fast, sometimes slow, and the clock finally ticked down to the last forty seconds.
Time for them was permanently ended.