Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note or the song Gun Powder and Lead

It's been several months of complete silence, and I loved every minute of it. Rest. That's what it was. No screaming, no threatening, no bruises. That's what was nice about it.

Mello had been gone since September, locked up in County after a particularly nasty day on the third of the month. I absentmindedly rubbed my jaw. What a prick.

County road 233, under my feet
Nothin' on this white rock but little ol' me

I looked back at the calendar. December eighth. Fuck. I had been dreading this day since the moment he was sentenced, and it was now here. Today, he was being let out. Domestic disputes really didn't get taken that seriously; not in L.A, and not between two guys when void of any proof of gang relations being the instigator.


I've got two miles till, he makes bail
And if I'm right we're headed straight for hell

He was going to be furious when he got home. It was my fault he was locked up to begin with, so I knew exactly what was coming for me. The advantage was mine, however. I sure as hell, after all, hadn't spent the last three or so months waiting around to be kicked around like a dog again. I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette

The smoke curled around my fingers and through the opened window. Sitting at the kitchen table, I lazily stroked the gun on the table in front of me, looking out onto the street below. I figured I had a few more hours left.


If he wants a fight, well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet

What I was doing…it wasn't smart. I was suppose to be smart, at least by Wammy's decree. What was coming for me wasn't an "I'm-mad-at-you or a I-need-to-talk-to-you, oh no. It was a full-out, I'm-going-to-rip-your-throat-out-and-point-out-the-finer-qualities-of-its-anatomy kind of anger. But that was then, and this was now. I'd show him I wasn't his fucking punching bag anymore.


He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?
I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and lead

I was done with his shit. And when I say that, I mean done. Looking back up at the clock, I felt my lip twitch involuntarily into a smile. It was almost time.Well it's half past ten, another six pack in
And I can feel the rumble like a cold black wind

A faint hum down the street turned into a low growl, and soon, so soon, a fierce snarl. Ah, I thought, Melly's home.


He pulls in the drive, gravel flies
He don't know what's waitin' here this time

I clicked off the safety on my gun, turning it over in my hands. Now I know why he used these. They were so simple. You don't want anyone in your face anymore? Bang bang. Problem solved. Oh Mello…Hey I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet

The motor was cut, and a minute later, I heard the footsteps on the stairs. The familiar heavy thuds of his thick boots stomping closer towards me every second seemed like such an ominous sound. I watched the door handle carefully while memories flipped through my head.


He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?

For a moment, my resolve weakened. Did I really want to do this? More importantly, could I? This was Mello. Mello was insane. Mello destroyed anyone who got in his way. I had him arrested. I had gotten in his way.


I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of
Gunpowder and lead

A key jingled in the lock, and my focus instantly went back to the present. Yeah,… yeah, I could do this. I was gonna do it. If I didn't, it was only a matter of time before he killed me in a fit of rage. That is, if he didn't plan on killing me the moment he walked through the door.

His fist is big but my gun's bigger
He'll find out when I pull the trigger

I stubbed out my cigarette as the knob turned. A black boot appeared at the base of the door, followed quickly by a very angry, very venomous blonde. He took in the sight of my gun, and stilled.

"Hey, Mells," I said.

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
If he wants a fight well now he's got one
And he ain't seen me crazy yet

Mello closed the door behind him and locked it. Good, I thought.

"What are you doing, Matt?" he asked, voice low with the threat.

"I'm waiting," I said evenly. He scoffed, taking off his jacket and throwing it onto the couch next to him.

"Ok, Matty. If it makes you feel safer, go ahead and wave your little gun around in my face. It's not like you could actually shoot me."

He walked towards me, smirking. When he was within a few feet, he held up his palm, silently asking. I shook my head, and the smile disappeared from his face.

"Give me the fucking gun, Matt."

This wasn't what I had expected. It was Mello! He was suppose to have stormed through the door and immediately tried to beat the shit out of me. But he didn't. He wasn't attacking. I couldn't shoot him like this. If I didn't do something, though, he would resort back to what I knew best.


He slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man?

"Matt," he said, snapping me back.

I looked down at the gun in my hand. Quickly, too quickly, he made a grab for it while my attention was diverted. I pulled back, raising the gun to his face. He froze.

"Not smart," he warned.


I'm gonna show him what little girls are made of

"I know," I answered flatly.


Gunpowder and,
Gunpowder and lead

He made to knock my hand aside with one arm while the other disappeared behind his back. The flash of steel distracted me as it swung back around his torso towards my side.

Gunpowder and lead, yeah

I didn't even realize I had pulled the trigger until the kickback jarred my arm and the heated metal dropped to the floor.

Yeah.

Oh my god.

This is my first story and I'd love some feedback. Review?