A/N - Well, here goes nothing. My first official public fanfiction. Naturally MelsxMatty. First off, a wonderful, huge thank-you and platter of cookies to Dlvvanzor. Her patience with the delay of this fiction is well beyond appreciated, and I am forever grateful for her willingness to maintain her status as the Beta. Another thank you goes out to Arika257 for her input as well as her randomness that always helps to break up the monotony and inspire new ideas.

This first chapter is pretty short, and a little slow on the build-up, but it's essential. Future chapters will have a little more to them, especially when the story starts to really pick up. So enjoy, leave a comment or constructive criticism if you'd like, and I'll do my best to keep the chapters coming at a productive rate! - Ai

**Mello's P.O.V.**

The small apartment was in shambles. The carpet was stained, the wallpaper was peeling in several spots to reveal the cracked concrete beneath, and the windows were so covered in dust and grime that you could barely see through them. Nice to see his abhorrence of natural light was still holding strong; although the sources of artificial light were limited as well. There was a ceiling light in the middle of the room and a small lamp on a beat-up wooden table by the kitchen. I hadn't investigated the bedroom or bathroom, but I would imagine their condition would be comparable.

I was actually surprised that he was out, what with having never been much for the outside world and judging from the video game consoles and cases lying around, as well as the multitude of top-of-the-line computer systems, that hadn't changed either. It appeared that he still preferred his digital world, not that I blamed him. The world was a nasty, ugly place.

I let my eyes scan over the abundance of little things that were scattered around his place. A lot of it came as no surprise, such as the dozen or so cases of energy drinks (he never did like sleep much). Some, like the half-empty carton of cigarettes, were completely new. Had he really started smoking? Dumb-fuck. I used my teeth to snap off a chunk of the chocolate bar I was carrying. My nerves were on edge. I thought I'd prepared myself for this, but apparently, there was never enough preparation to soothe the guilt of a traitor. Especially when the person you betrayed was the only one worth a damn. I wouldn't be surprised if he hated me. Hell, if I were in his shoes and showed up to find me here, I would fucking shoot me. But that was my style, not his.

I hadn't seen him in years, where the fuck was he? We'll completely ignore the fact that I was waiting for him, uninvited, in his own place, after shooting out the lock on the door to get in. Whatever, I'd pay for a new one. I was looking at one of the computers when I heard a deeper version of that familiar voice.

"What the hell?"

A small smirk curved my lips as I nipped off another piece of chocolate, turning around to face him. The first thing I noticed was the fact that he was taller- only about an inch shorter than me now. He still had those gorgeous green eyes and that mop of red hair that was in a permanent state of disarray. And the goggles; mustn't forget those. They hung loosely around his neck, light reflecting off the orange plastic lenses. I never understood why he always chose orange. He was carrying a hard drive in one hand and keys in the other.

"Well hello to you too, Matty."

The look on his face was priceless. It was like he couldn't decide whether he was happy to see me or if he wanted to strangle me. The expression in his eyes flickered between confusion and annoyance. Good? Bad? Where would it land?

"Get out."

Okay, definitely bad. Alright, I'll admit it, I was a dick. I'd left without a word. Maybe I deserved that.

I stood there, staring at him, chewing on my chocolate. He stared back at me, not moving. Finally he sighed, kicking the door closed behind him and walked over to place the hard-drive down on the cracked countertop. I smiled to myself, my mouth still working on the candy bar in my hand.

He turned to face me, arms folded across his chest. He tried for angry, but he never could quite manage it. Matty had always been the passive-aggressive one. His green eyes scanned over me. I probably came as a bit of a shock to him. I saw the questions he was holding back. The scar for one thing, and I hadn't exactly walked around in skin-tight leather when I was fourteen either, though the monochromatic black was fairly common for me, even back then. I wanted him to say something, I wanted to scream at him to say something, but I bit my tongue, or rather, just kept it occupied with chocolate. I didn't have the right to push. Lord knew I'd pushed him enough back then.

I watched impatiently as he pulled his gaze from me without a word and reached a gloved hand into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and...my lighter. I'd bought that lighter when I was 13 for the sole purpose of lighting the albino freak's toys on fire. I'd thought I'd lost it when I left. The fact that he'd kept it all this time gave me some sense of...hope?

He pulled a cigarette from the pack and flicked the lighter open, lighting the stick as he placed it between his lips, and inhaling deeply. He made the action look oddly cool, which was strange considering I'd wanted to kick his ass for it a few minutes ago. He made it look kind of sexy. It was comparable to watching his fingers move deftly across a keyboard or the control pad of one of his many gaming systems. Maybe I'd let him keep this new habit of his.

Matt pushed himself away from the counter he was leaning on, taking the cigarette from his mouth and moving over to one of his computers, swiftly entering a selection of keystrokes in the password encryption box. "What do you want Mello? I'm a little busy."

He passed by me like it hadn't been years since we'd seen each other, like it didn't mean anything to have me here. And that was worse than a bullet. I'd expected him to be pissed off, I mean, I hadn't exactly warned him that I was leaving, and I hadn't really said goodbye either. Well, I had. Sort of.

**Flashback**

I stood beside his bed, just watching him sleep. A little creepy, I know. I mean, what fourteen year-old boy watched his best friend while he slept? The kind that was in love and was about to walk away from it. I would have loved to take him with me, to never worry about there being a day that he wasn't there. I was a selfish, arrogant prick and I knew it. It had never bothered me. Until Matt had come along. I was still selfish, and arrogant, and a prick, but I would have never intentionally done anything that caused Matt any harm. I had no idea what I would end up doing, or where I was going, and I couldn't subject him to that. He deserved better; a better place, a better future, better friends. Better everything. I hadn't deserved him in the first place anyway.

I sighed softly. It was nearly three in the morning and I had to get going if I was ever going to get out of there. The thought of leaving him behind nearly made me nauseous. It almost made me wake him, just to say goodbye, but I knew if I did that, either I wouldn't leave or I'd be forced to take him with me. I couldn't afford to have either of those things happen. Yes, I was still being selfish, yes I was well aware it was going to hurt like a bitch, for both of us, but it was for the best. Right?

I glanced around the small room we'd shared for what had seemed like forever. I was going to miss it. There were a couple of other kids here at Wammy's that Matt occasionally conversed with, but for me, he was my only friend. I'd say that made him my best friend by default, but that wasn't the case at all. He'd still be my best friend if I'd had a million others. I reached back and picked up my duffle bag from where it rested on my own bed. Time to go.

I reached out a hand to ruffle his hair, pausing mid-movement and thinking better of it. He was usually a heavy sleeper, but I didn't want to risk it. Instead, I made sure one of his hand-held video game things was in reach. I may be an ass, but I was still a genius. I wouldn't be at Wammy's if I wasn't. I knew what Matt would do when he found out I was gone. It involved copious amounts of video games, and not a whole hell of a lot of anything else. It was his way of coping.

I walked over to the window, sliding it open. I glanced back over my shoulder before hopping up on the ledge. I smiled half-heartedly, grabbing the nearest tree branch and hauling myself out. I climbed down a couple more branches before jumping the five or so feet to the ground. I looked back up to our second story window.

"Later Matty."

**End Flashback**

Matt glanced back over his shoulder expectantly. When I didn't respond, he raised his eyebrows and gave me a look as if to say 'Well?'

I sighed, running a hand over my face. Clearly, this wasn't going to happen. At least not now. "You know what, don't worry about it. Take it easy Matt." I turned on my boot-heel, snapping another chunk off the bar, and headed for the door.

"'Take it easy Matt'? You blow the lock on my door and wait around my apartment after not even so much as a postcard for the last 4 years, finally letting me know you were alive, only to turn around and walk right out again? Typical fucking Mello."

I was standing in the doorway, staring at the far wall of the decrepit hallway, glad he couldn't see the look on my face. I was such a fucking asshole. "I'll have someone come and fix your door."

The last thing I heard as I pulled damaged wood closed behind me was something bouncing off the wall inside.

I sat outside the building for a few minutes, straddling my black sport bike and glaring out at the world through the dull grey of my helmet visor. It was a fitting colour. I felt like shit. What had I been expecting to find up there? A warm welcome? Actually, yes. I had expected Matt to be pissed off at first, and he was. The problem was that he had stayed pissed. There had been no shrugging off of the anger that was typical of the Matt I knew. Fuck, it was my job to be the pissy one. That was how it had always been. I would rant and cuss and break things and Matt would pretend to listen, never taking his eyes off whatever damn game he was playing. There had been times where I was content with the illusion of having him as an audience and others where I had mercilessly yanked the game from his hands. That usually earned me a glare or an irritated "The hell, Mello?" And that would be the end of it. An annoyed Matt was like my Valium. I'd throw his game back at him, he'd go back to playing it and I would go brood or study, depending on what had set me off in the first place.

I stared at the apartment block in front of me with contempt before turning the key in the ignition and speeding out of the dim parking lot, resisting the urge to catwalk the bike or chirp the tires. I could at least pretend not to be childish, just in case he happened to be watching. I could also pretend that I didn't care whether or not he was. I was good at pretending.