AUTHORS NOTE: Flashbacks are in italics. Might be confusing, sorry about that.

There also should be a break between "...wouldn't dare say aloud to him." & "The door closed almost silently,..." I'm not sure why it's not working, but I just want that place to be a clear timeskip.


Once, just a couple months after Matt turned fourteen, Mello got the flu. He was so sick, and had to be quarantined in a separate room, away from the other children. None of the adults would let anyone near him, though it wasn't like anyone would go near him in the first place.

But they let Matt stay. Matt wouldn't leave Mello, ever. The very idea was impossible. Matt felt as if he wasn't physically able to ever leave Mello's side. They never would have to, either. Matt and Mello were a team. They were going to be L together. Matt was the only person Mello would ever share the privilege with, and they both knew that.

Matt stayed by Mello's side for three days. Most of the time, Mello would be sleeping. And when he was, Matt would tell Mello everything he wanted. He would tell him everything he wouldn't dare say aloud to him.


The door closed almost silently, and a figure that was covered in black clothing, was able to escape into the night without being noticed.

This was all his fault, and he couldn't stand to watch everything he thought was right, go so wrong. Fall completely apart until nothing was left.


He was alone.

Again. That fucking asshole left him here, again.

Though, it wasn't like Matt hadn't expected it. He knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up when the blonde showed up at Wammy's. But he couldn't help but think, 'finally. He's finally come back for me,' as soon as Mello walked through the door to the room that they would talk to L in, when he would visit.

"Matt. Matt, look up from your stupid game for one goddamn second."

"M-Mello…?"

"No shit, Sherlock. Who did you think it was?"

Matt had the top floor of Wammy's to himself now. He had no place else to go, and since he wasn't leaving, and L's floor wouldn't be used anymore, Roger had allowed him to have it to himself. Matt could have his privacy, and if he felt like it, let the utter anguish of the knowledge that he was always going to be alone, wash over him without worrying about someone checking up on him.

But, hell, everyone, but Mello, knew that his absence depressed Matt. It was no secret that he'd completely break down from time to time.

Matt's fist flew out and he punched the wall. The same wall that he had been pressed up to only a few hours ago. A muffled scream tore through his lips, but it was only out of rage. Not because of the unnatural crack that the bones in his hands made as his fist made contact with tacky wallpaper. The physical pain was nothing. "Fucking… God dammit, Mello! What the hell was the point of all that?!"

Matt's head hit the wall. "Oy, fucker. That hur"

The blonde crushed his lips to Matt's. "I love you, too, Mail Jeevas."

"…Okay." Matt had told Mello that months before L even died. He had thought Mello was asleep at the time.

The night didn't end with just a kiss.

Matt inhaled and punched the wall a second time. He hit it a few more times before his foot joined in the attack. It should have put a hole in the wall. For any normal person, that should have been the outcome. But Matt was so weak…

Mello traced his hands over Matt's naked torso. "Damn, Matty, I thought I was thin." He outlined Matt's entire ribcage. "What's your secret, a no food diet?"

There was a pause. "…Something like that."

Mello didn't even leave Matt a fucking note. When he left him the first time, he had common decency to leave Matt a goddamn fucking note. It didn't take any of the resentment Matt felt away, but it was better than just up and leaving. He could have left something like, 'Hey, thanks for the shag. I've enclosed twenty dollars for your time. Maybe I'll stop by again later to rip your heart out some more.' Though, with the new choice of attire, Mello would appear to be the one who was providing services.

The redhead sighed angrily, and walked over towards his bed. The blanket and sheets were tangled, and when he bent down, they smelled of sex. In disgust, Matt stripped them off the bed and threw them behind him into a corner of the room. He then threw the entirety of the pillows, instead of just the pillowcases, and curled up on the bare mattress.

The nails of his hand dug weakly into his palm. "What was the point of all of that, Mello? Why show up, just to mangle my feelings some more. It doesn't make any sense! It's completely illogical, and I've never known you to be like that. What was your goddamn reason?!"

Mello's eye caught a small rectangular box on Matt's bedside table. He kissed him. "Matty, whassat over there?" His speech was slurred. It was as if the very presence of the redhead was intoxicating.

Matt kissed Mello back. He didn't look at the table. "Cigarettes."

Though Mello kissed Matt several more times, he wasn't paying attention. "Yuh smoke?" It was a stupid question, since he could now taste faint traces of cigarettes in the redhead's mouth.

"Yeah."

Matt's nails dug in a little harder. "Mello, you bastard. I hate you so fucking much."

"Do you know everything you're doing is slowly killing you?"

"Yeah."

"…Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Not particularly." Mello kissed Matt again.

Matt stared at the tiles in the ceiling. He hadn't really noticed that the ceiling was tiled before. Though he had never cared much. When Mello was here, that was what Matt had to focus on. When Mello left, Matt couldn't focus on anything.

He hated him. He hated Mello so much.

There was a peaceful silence. It was like the calm before the storm. Or maybe it was after. Mello was staring into Matt's eyes. Matt was staring, but Mello couldn't be sure it was at him. Matt could easily just be staring. "Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"What's it feel like?"

Matt paused. "What does what feel like?"

"Not eating. Don't you feel hungry?"

"Oh… I dunno. Not really, you stop noticing. You adjust to malnourishment. Quite frankly, eating more than a meal a day makes me sick."

"You know it's unhealthy, right?"

"I never said it wasn't."

Mello waited till he could hear the soft snore Matt would start to let slip when he was falling asleep. "Do you hate me?"

"F' wha?"

"Leaving you here."

"Nuh… I luh you."

"I hate me for leaving."


Though Mello fought with himself for hours, he still got up and left Matt's sleeping form. This was all his fault, and he couldn't stand to watch everything he thought was right, go so wrong. Fall completely apart until nothing was left.

He hated himself for leaving Matt when they were fourteen. He hated himself even more, now that he was leaving him again at age seventeen. He hated himself, because he knew that one day, he would need Matt's help, and Matt would come back to his side.

And he hated himself, because above all else, he knew that Matt must hate him more.