Author's Note: Yet another Death Note fanfiction. I find it a bit harder to write about Mello seeing as little about him is known and he and Matt had so little air time during the series. However, I figured I'd give this a try. I had a spark of inspiration and figured it might be nice to write about a character I rarely write about. I am unsure if I will continue this so please leave a review letting me know if I should! Thanks! :D
"Get your hands in the air!" The man yelled, holding the gun in both hands and pointing it directly at the victim's head. Slowly, the victim lifted his arms in the air, quaking in fear. The kidnapper reached out with one leather-clad hand and wrenched the victim backwards by the collar of his shirt. Just as the victim was thought to have given-up the fight, he pushed upwards from the concrete floor and managed to tear himself from his captor's grip. Running at full speed, he sprinted down the corridor and turned sharply towards the large garage door just ahead.
"Hey! Get back here!"
Running after him, his captor began shooting wildly. When he had his victim in the direct path of the bullet, he pulled the trigger. A loud wailing could be heard and the man fell to the ground. Slowly, his captor approached his writhing figure. As he stood over the dying man, he heard his last words as the light slowly left his eyes.
"You..." The man coughed. "Mello. You are evil. The son...of the devil."
Mello, his kidnapper, shrugged and tucked his gun into the front of his pants. "Maybe. Just doing my job."
With that said, Mello turned on his heels and walked away from the fresh corpse. "Hey! We got a new one over here! Come clean it up!" Mello called as he sat down and broke off a corner of his chocolate bar with his teeth. He chewed slowly, watching two men bustle about the body, heaving it into a large bag, soak up the blood, and hiding all means of evidence.
"Too bad he couldn't give us the information we needed." A gruff voice sounded. Just as Mello was about to swivel around in the chair, he heard the familiar clicking of a gun being loaded.
"You're late on the job, Mello. I don't think you can hold your own."
"That's what you think I'm surprised you can do that much."
BANG!
"Heh, you never had a chance."
Standing, Mello walked away from the moaning man who was now clutching his bleeding knee.
"Damn you, Mello!" Were the last words he heard before he walked out into the sunlight – something he had not seen in a long time.
Memories of his childhood began to trickle into the front of his mind, causing his emotions to flare out of control. First: contentment, next: anger and betrayal, lastly - loyalty. These emotions always flooded his body whenever he thought of Wammy's House back in England. He gripped his chocolate bar tighter in his hand, glaring at every curious eye that met him. How had he screwed up his life? Ever since L's death, he felt he was missing one tragic piece of the puzzle he was trying to finish. Maybe it was the on-going competition with Near that had him, or perhaps it was the fact that L never had chosen a successor to begin with. Immediately, hot anger came in pricks at his neck and hands.
"If L had anticipated his death properly, maybe I wouldn't be in this mess..." Mello muttered angrily as he walked into the rotating doors of a motel. He checked in casually with the petite and scared-looking woman at the desk, and then made his way to his newest home. He knew he'd be staying there for awhile. At least until Matt showed up and they could begin planning a new tactic for capturing Kira.
Mello spent days in the room, just waiting for a call or some sort of message from his counterpart, Matt. Finally, at three in the morning, Matt burst through the door, panting and dropping his belongings on the floor.
"Mello! I'm here!" He called, jumping playfully onto the lump that was his best friend. A deep groan could be heard from under the pile of pillows and covers. Matt ripped the sheets off, exposing a drunk Mello. His face was red and he was wearing nothing other than a wife-beater and short boxer shorts. His hand was resting on his exposed stomach and his eyes had rolled to the back of his head.
"UGH! Mello! Why did you choose this night, of all nights, to get drunk?" Matt groaned, pushing Mello roughly. Mello sat up and glared at his friend, rubbing his head and smacking his lips loudly.
"Whatthehell do you think youare doing, Matt?" He slurred. Matt punched him lightly in the arm. Wincing, Mello pulled away from his friend and turned on a light.
"Your eyes are seriously dilated." Matt muttered as he leaned in and pushed his goggles further onto his head to observe his friend better. Mello shoved a large hand into his face and pushed him back.
"I have been waiting for two weeks for at least a message. Why don't you ever call and let me know when you're going to be here?" Mello whined, crossing his arms and swaying a bit. Matt snickered and smirked.
"You sound like a worried old wife who is complaining to her husband."
"Shut up, Matt."
"I don't think I will..."
"Then I'll shut you up!"
Before Matt could pull away, the drunken Mello had lunged himself at Matt and locked his lips with his. Matt immediately tensed his muscles and kicked Mello off of him onto the ground.
"Dude!" Matt growled, wiping his mouth with his gloved hand. "You really drank your dignity away this time!"
Mello groaned and sat up, stumbling to his friend.
"Matt! What do you think you're--"
BMP!
"You're such an idiot, Mello." Matt whispered to his unconscious friend who was now laying face-down on the ground. He heaved him onto his bed and prepared a damp cloth, resting it on his forehead. Matt stared at Mello. His bruised face told him that he had gotten into another fight with a gang member again. Matt shook his head and went to his own, still-made, bed. He sat on the edge of the bed as the memory of Mello's lips against his made itself known. He shuddered and glared at Mello, cursing silently to himself. Finally, Matt kicked off his boots, slung his goggles onto the floor, and snuggled into the comforters for a well-deserved night's rest.