Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

Warnings: abuse, rape, alcohol use, swears… And just general adult content.

Basically, just inspired by the song "Easier to Run" by Linkin Park. Heh. So, enjoy. (Or, well… Not the subject matter. You're a freak if you enjoy this.)

Basically, I've been hyped up on Monster (which, to my mom, is an acceptable drink to bring in my lunches…) and grounded. That led to me finally getting to write this. Which I've BEASTED, by the way. Thirty-four pages in less than a week. Typing it up was the hard part, though… So, here it is:

Bloody Kisses

Broken

Mello was yelling. Again.

He'd promised Matt he wouldn't. He promised he'd give up drinking. He promised.

But when has that ever meant anything to him, Matt thought bitterly to himself. He willed himself to just sit back and let it happen. Maybe it would stop him from provoking Mello further this time. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much this time.

"— and you're just worthless! You don't mean anything to me, not a damn thing," Mello continued. His words had only a slight, barely-noticeable drunken slur to them, only obvious to Matt because of how long he'd known the man. He knew the alcohol wouldn't really change him into anyone different. He was exactly the same. It only freed the caged beast inside of him. And what did he do, once it was unleashed? He took all his anger out on Matt.

And he just stayed with him, through it all. He was so loyal, it was practically animal abuse.

"Come here. Didn't you hear me?" The blonde growled, making a motion with his fingers that repeated his earlier command, that Matt must have somehow missed. With his other hand, he untied the laces on his pants, glaring at Matt expectantly.

Oh, he knew damn well what was in store for him tonight. Mello would rape him raw, beat him until he bruised— Hell, maybe until he scarred. And then he would do it again, wouldn't stop hitting him until the alcohol made him pass out. He knew damn well Mello wouldn't ever be satisfied.

Matt stepped forward, watching his lover— no, no… That was the wrong word, but none came to mind to better describe their relationship— remove his pants. Secretly, he wished they would stay on, at least partly, They restricted his range of movement, making his kicks, or thrusts, or anything else, less painful— though still excruciating. His muscles were still powerful, which Matt knew well. The skin on his entire body was sensitive after months of continued torture— beatings, burnings, cuttings, stabbings… Whatever Hell anybody could think of, he'd been through it.

And he knew tonight would be the last time.

Matt prepared himself mentally to face this. He would not scream, would not cry out from the pain this time. He always had before, to do his best to satiate the man, to get him to stop. But it only encouraged more, so this time, he would not give Mello that satisfaction.

Mello grabbed him by the neck before he knew it and forced his pants down. He knew better than to think he could fight Mello off now. Normally, he could at least hold his own in a fight with him, but now, his system was toxic with a mix of testosterone and adrenaline— not to mention alcohol.

Matt writhed at the contact as Mello stroked, teasing his cock erect, against his will. Everything was against his will. But he gave Mello what he wanted, as always, and didn't even whine. He just put up with it.

He knew he wouldn't even be pleased by this, in any way. Neither of them would, but he let it happen because Mello wanted it. And Mello got what he wanted. At all costs. No matter what.

"Now be a good little boy and wait on the bed." The words were spoken in a cold, yet slightly playful tone.

Matt knew exactly what that tone meant, knew exactly what was planned for him. Mello would want to play with one of his favorite toys: fire.

He didn't use it on himself anymore, not after he scarred his own face— Matt remembered well; he'd received an exceptionally painful beating for that. He shuddered at the memory.

Mello appeared in the doorway, now completely naked. In his right hand, he flicked open his favorite silver lighter, teasing Matt with the flame as fading burn scars ached. He used to tease Matt, dragging the open flame down near his own body, the heat only making his body want more. He threw his head back from the sensation, still aware of Matt, and looked at him with desire and pleasure in his eyes, promising that it would be fun. Satisfying. The fire used to be fun. Now, it was just another torture tool for him to use on Matt.

Mello never let himself scar or disfigure Matt. Permanently, anyways. It wasn't because he cared, simply because he didn't want any evidence. But, though many of the bruises and burns faded away in time, he swore he could still feel them, reminded of every hit, every second of torture Mello put him through.

Mello used his left hand to lean against the doorway, quickly flying to his crotch to stroke himself until he was hard, as he left the doorway and walked towards Matt. He still lay obediently on the bed, legs spread, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible.

"Eager today, aren't we?" Mello straddled the redhead, stroking his chest softly, making Matt squirm. It was so teasing. He wouldn't get anything more.

He pulled Matt's legs up and wrapped them around his waist, ready to thrust himself in. But he waited a few minutes, wanting a few more seconds of spirit-crushing verbal torture for Matt. Not that he had much of a spirit to crush, any more…

Cold, heartless bastard, Matt thought when he saw the feral look in his eyes and his wild grin. He was enjoying this, as always. But he pushed back the thought. He loved Mello… When he was sober. And took the time to prepare him before thrusting in mindlessly. But now… He couldn't help but harbor feelings of resentment for the man on top of him.

"Hmm…" Mello hummed as he pushed into Matt, who writhed in pain, struggling to escape this.

"Like that, Matty?" he asked, with a sadistic smile detectable just from his tone. Mockingly, he stroked Matt's hair, as if he cared enough to reassure him about the pain he was so obviously in.

He just let out a grunt, but Mello knew the signs of his beaten-down, abused slave's breakdown well. His eyes watered, fighting back the tears. He chewed at his bottom lip until it bled, using that to temporarily distract him from any other pain. Once he noticed Mello staring at him, he turned his head away, not wanting the blonde to examine him that closely.

"Of course not." he finally said, doing his best to keep his voice calm, but a little, tiny bit of his fear and displeasure came out as well. And, of course, the pain.

Mello gripped Matt's cheeks to turn him by force to look him in the eyes. "Good."

He decided he wanted more, more of the redhead's glorious pain, more suffering. He released Matt's face from his grip, grabbing the lighter he'd placed near them on the bed with his now-free hand. Flicking it open, he held it in front of Matt's face, a foot or so away, allowing him to see the flame. But not feel it. Yet. He would suffer, knowing these were his last few pain-free (for the most part) moments.

The head radiated onto Matt's skin as Mello held the lighter closer, and Matt's flesh seemed to burn from the closeness of it. It wouldn't scar; it would only hurt. For days. Maybe forever; some of the burns from months ago still pained Matt.

As Mello pulled out and thrust back in, hard, but not nearly as rough as he could be, he pressed the flickering flame even closer to Matt's skin until it burned the soft flesh at his shoulder. Matt wanted to cry out in agony, pain from both sources. Instead, he groaned. That was the only sound he would allow Mello to hear. He wouldn't scream. This time, he wanted to win.

Frustrated at this, he thrust harder and faster into Matt's body, dragging the flame down to new, more sensitive, areas as he numbed to the burning. He purposely avoided his prostate— it wouldn't be much fun torturing him if he enjoyed it, after all.

"Scream for me!" His eyes narrowed in frustration, in his anger, utterly pissed off. He was glaring at Matt with those same blue eyes he'd stare at him with lovingly, caressing him, touching him softly…

But that was not a million years away, and Mello obviously didn't notice, or give a damn. Unless that emotional pain was intentional. Which was highly likely. Matt's pain was what he craved, sought after like a drug. Or, at least, that was what it seemed like.

"Why. Won't. You. Scream?" Each word was punctuated with a rough, harsh thrust, each harder than the last. The final was unbearable, and he was sure there was blood. A lot of it. He could feel it, and it hurt. So, so much. Normally, Mello focused more on the external torture— such as the flame, or a beating. His skin had hardened, to an extent, and he was numb from some of that pain now. That kind of pain didn't hurt so badly anymore.

But this… This roughness inside was new to Matt. He didn't know what to do about it. Why did this have to happen the one time when he swore he wouldn't submit to it any longer? He had to keep fighting it. Resisting just once would lead to more punishment later. He could deal with more for tonight if it meant freedom later.

But if Mello became too fed up with his resistance, would he just kill him, finally ending it— but in a way opposite than Matt wanted?

"I— I won't!" He shook his head. He couldn't hold back his screams and tears, and so they rolled down his cheeks. He was breaking. They both knew it.

"You will," Mello growled, giving a slightly less rough— though still hellishly violent— thrust as he came. He sighed in satisfaction, looking at Matt coldly. He allowed himself a moment to rest and breath heavily, teasing Matt's body with his warm breath.

"Don't you wish you came? That I made you?" He looked down at him harshly, fingernails digging into the flesh of his stomach. Matt let out a whimper at that sudden pain. "I could have made you feel good. Do you want that?"

Matt didn't allow himself to nod, but his eyes pleaded with Mello. Matt didn't even know why. It could have been for him to stop, or could have been because he really did want it. Mello had mocked his own desire, and it pained him to know that Mello, who treated him like dirt, had gotten the satisfaction he was dying for.

"You would have gotten it if you'd screamed." Mello dragged his fingernails lower, cutting into his soft skin, his tender body, leaving a trail of blood. He then brought his fingernails back to Matt's stomach, scratching the same line, though quicker and much more forcefully, cutting deeper into his skin. Matt inhaled slightly at the pain, but refused to scream.

It wasn't enough! He needed to scream. He always had before, without fail. What was so different now?

Mello smirked, taking hold of his half-hard cock, stroking himself slightly viciously, still angry at Matt's insolence, as Matt watched jealously.

"You'll scream this time." It was an order, spoken harshly, with the anger just barely held back from his voice, filled with determination. He couldn't stand when he didn't get what he wanted.

Matt had to be close to breaking now. He just had to. Mello panted, breathing hard from the exertion, the use of the force new to him, just barely holding back a growl. He backhanded Matt across the face, an uncreative expression of his anger. He couldn't think of a better way at the moment. He only wanted Matt to scream.

Who would break first?

Mello kept his glare on Matt as he let out a snarl. He was going to win. He'd already won. This should be over. He'd made Matt bleed already; the proof covered his most precious organ, which he pulled his hand away from.

"Scream." He thrust forcefully into Matt as he said the word, who just winced. Silently to Mello's dismay and utter fury. The blood must have dulled the sensation… Which gave Mello a better idea.

Pleasure. He'd use that as his newest torture instrument.

"I'm going to pound you into the mattress until you scream," Mello hissed in Matt's ear, touching Matt's stomach lightly, shoving himself in painfully at the same time.

He let out a grunt, and was probably doing his best to block out the pleasure, fearing punishment for enjoying it. He looked up at Mello, confusion showing in his still-pleading eyes.

"Do it. You're mine." He pulled out, thrusting in again, licking the length of Matt's cock slowly, hoping he wouldn't cum from it, ruining everything. "You're my slave," he whispered as he pulled away, thrusting again, harder this time. "My cumdumpster." He looked Matt in the eyes, not offering any more pleasure at the moment. He thrust in painfully, nearly making Matt scream.

Nearly.

"JUST FUCKING SCREAM? What's WRONG with you?" He raked his nails over the same spot as before on his stomach again, making Matt writhe, body twisting as he tried to get out of Mello's grip.

Mello was losing it. He knew it; they both did. But Matt was close to winning, so close. Too close to lose now.

Matt was whimpering, unable to keep silent any longer, but it wasn't good enough for Mello. And he wanted it to be over. He wanted to scream. So, so badly. Mello continued thrusting, no longer pleasing Matt with his touch. Mello was ferocious, deeper into Matt's body each time. Deeper than anything had ever been inside him before. Deeper than anything— especially Mello— had a right to be. It hurt. He was in excruciating pain, with no more mental distractions to hold him back. He was in Hell, and he knew how to free himself. He was breaking. He did the only thing he could do, to maybe make Mello at least touch him again. To make him feel better.

He cried out in pain, pretending to disguise it as a groan, but he knew that Mello would know better. He expressed his physical need for this to stop, for him to please him, for everything.

"Please…" Matt let the word slip from his lips, telling Mello to stop, to do something. To realize what he'd done to Matt, and stop everything. He wanted some miraculous change that would obviously not happen.

But pleasure wouldn't happen, he knew. He'd be mocked. Mello would act like he would please him, but only tease him and leave him more miserable. But maybe at least Mello would get some satisfaction out of it.

Mello realized exactly what the redhead wanted. He wanted to be touched, caressed, loved. And he decided to indulge him, just for a moment. He would have a few seconds of almost unbearable pleasure, and then have it taken away, while Mello watched him tear himself apart.

Mello adjusted the angle of his thrusts, making Matt throw his head back in the pleasure he gave, knowing it would be temporary. Nonetheless, Matt's pain was forgotten, lost in the bliss.

"M-more…" Matt's eyes begged for it, looking into Mello's to try to determine whether or not he would get it. He whined, trying to do his best to convince Mello to do it. "Please…" he added, almost a whisper.

Mello had stopped completely. He was silent, not whispering threats or orders to Matt. The only sound was their breathing— Mello's even as he panted to regain his breath, Matt's ragged and quick, laced with little whines and whimpers as he looked to Mello with such a pleading look in his eyes that Mello couldn't deny him his request.

Mello nodded, the motion promising Matt's pleasure, and the meaning behind it made his breath hitch in his throat. His body was screaming for more— and Mello gave it to him.

Mello thrust in again, and Matt gasped, eyes widening, and he let out a deep moan. He shuddered, and he couldn't hold back the moans, couldn't hold back any of the sounds as Mello kept thrusting into him.

Mello leaned his head down to lick Matt's length again, and he saw the redhead throw his head back against the bed, peering down at him through one half-closed eye. Mello took him into his mouth and heard a sharp gasp and a low, unrestrained moan. His eyes shut, and he muttered whatever came into his mind at the time, not even thinking to hold back.

"Christ, Mels…" It had been weeks—or was it months— since Mello had even given a damn about his pleasure— and that had been barely a touch. Maybe he's different. Maybe he'll do this more often.

Mello took more into his mouth, as much as he could, and Matt moaned loudly. He wished this moment would last forever. Or at least until Mello let him cum— months of denial were starting to get to him.

He was sensitive to Mello's every touch, every lick, and soon, he knew it wouldn't last much longer. He wanted it to continue, though— it felt too good to stop.

"Mello…" his words were cut off by a rather loud moan, "I'm so— I'm gonna…"

Mello looked up at him, at his flushed face, mouth open as he moaned deeply, completely unrestrained now. He wondered what kind of monster would ruin it, would take away the one moment of joy he'd been given in months.

I would, he thought with a sadistic grin.

"No, you won't." Mello pulled out of him, removing him from his mouth to speak, changing the angle of his thrusts again so that Matt wouldn't get any pleasure out of them. With a few exceptionally harsh thrusts to prove his point, Mello came inside him, moaning as he did so. The sound was to mock Matt, lying on the bed with tears in his eyes.

"But—" Matt started, begging for more. Just a second more. It would only take a second. He was so close that he couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear not reaching the same level Mello had, just being brought higher and higher and then, nothing. Left there. To the point where it physically hurt.

"No." Mello pulled out of him, his voice cold and final.

"P-please! I need it…"

And he did. The denial was bad, sure. But it was bearable. Now that he had a taste of it, some hope that his desires would be fulfilled, it was horrible. Unbearable.

Finally, Matt broke.

He threw his head back and let out a deafening, earsplitting scream. "Please! Just… Anything! Touch me… Hell, hit me. Beat me, burn me— but touch me!" The words came out as a shriek, and he sobbed, not caring about a damn thing anymore, and especially not "winning."

He was begging. It was music to Mello's ears, and he smiled as he looked upon the burned, bloody, crying, obviously broken boy below him on the bed.

He had won. That was obvious from Matt's whimpers, from his choked sobs and cries.

"Please… I give up… Do anything you want to me… Just touch me. One more time." He continued whining, begging for something that Mello was no longer offering. He just smiled, finally satisfied with this outcome, with himself. He slapped Matt on the thigh, hard, as if he were proving his dominance. Which was pointless; Matt knew he had no chance if he were to fight against him.

As he pulled his hand away from Matt's skin, his fingers gently brushed Matt's cock, making him cum over himself pathetically, not even finding any pleasure in it any more. It was exactly what he'd wanted— but not how he'd wanted it.

He loved Mello, and now look where he was. On a bed, crying, covered in his own blood and cum.

"I'm taking a shower. You stay here. Don't move an inch, or you'll get a worse punishment later."

Matt nodded weakly, sobbing softly. It wasn't like he could even walk, with what had just been done to him.

He watched as Mello pulled out a pair of boxers to sleep in— practically all the clothes he had were leather, and it wasn't like he was going to sleep in that. He stepped into the bathroom, trusting Matt to remain on the bed, due to his inevitable—and obvious— pain and soreness. That trust was what would betray him.

It would hurt Matt to leave, and if he was caught, the punishment would be severe. But Matt would have to take that chance to escape, even if he couldn't even stand, let alone walk, very well.

As soon as Matt heard the water turn on and the shower door slide and slam against the other end, Matt forced himself to roll out of bed. He held in his protests, doing his best to quiet his screaming muscles. This would likely be his final chance to escape. After Mello had broken him… Who knew what he would do? Maybe keep him chained in his basement.

If Mello heard him, he would be caught. He had to remain silent, through all the pain.

He grabbed a coat from the closet—it was Mello's; everything was Mello's— and his clothes, which were scattered on the floor. He hastily pulled them on, ignoring the pain as he stretched his legs to put his pants on. It was almost unbearable, and Matt almost fell over and lost his balance, but he fought through it.

He limped towards the door, grabbing his laptop and charger—though it might slow him down, it'd help him survive if he got out— and prayed that the door wouldn't creak.

It did.

Fuck!

Matt didn't try to be quiet any longer. He stumbled out the door, grabbing onto the railing in front of him. Damn the fourth floor. Damn it!

He should still have a few minutes—or was it seconds now?— before Mello came outside after him. He wouldn't leave without a jacket, and, of course, clothes, and that would take time. Matt was braced against the cold, and he held onto the railing as if it were his lifeline—maybe it was— as he limped down the stairs. He didn't trust the elevator now. It would take too long.

As Matt approached the second floor, he saw Mello open the apartment door, seething. He ran down the stairs towards Matt, once he located him, taking the steps two or three at a time.

"You're mine," he growled, "Get back here!"

Matt let a whimper out of his throat, and tried to move faster, but the pain was great, and Mello was catching up quickly. Too quickly.

Somehow, using all of his strength to block out the pain and cold, he made it to ground level before Mello. He couldn't rest just yet, though. He only had a lead of a few steps on Mello, and he couldn't take much more running.

"You won't escape," Mello growled threateningly, "And if you do, I'll find you."

Matt didn't look back again to see how close Mello was. He was too focused on what he needed to do in order to escape.

"Get back here! You're mine." His voice sounded even closer, and he could have sworn he felt Mello's hot breath on the back of his neck, but he couldn't be that close…

Matt was wrong. He was that close. He grabbed Matt around the waist, digging fingernails into his flesh, and bit down on the back of his neck, drawing blood.

Matt squirmed, struggling to get out of Mello's grasp. He gasped as Mello's tongue flicked out, licking up the blood apologetically and coating his neck in hot, sticky saliva. He leaned back into it, encouraging more, as if he liked it. As if it would calm him down.

It didn't. Or, rather, he didn't show it by being gently and touching Matt's body softly, holding him and whispering to him, like he wanted. Like he'd always wanted from Mello… What he always wanted him to do… But never did.

What he did do, however, was grab Matt by the chin and force him to turn around, pressing their lips together, as if they were lovers again. Or ever.

Mello bit down harshly on Matt's lip, and they could both taste the blood. Matt opened his mouth at Mello's demand, allowing him to slide his tongue in. He wrapped an arm around Matt's body slowly, so warm on the cold night, and let one slide up Matt's body to pull his hair. He encouraged Matt to do the same, to hold onto him, as well. He picked up on the hint and complied, and they remained undisturbed, at peace, in each other's arms, offering their warmth to the other, for a few more moments, until Mello pulled his mouth away.

"Stay?" Mello's eyes met Matt's, pleading with him silently. Promising that things would change this time, that it would be better, like it was at the moment. That every moment would be like this. No pain, just tenderness. Just love.

Matt wanted to believe him this time, wanted it to finally be true. Mello closed the distance between them once more, but this time, Matt pulled away, shaking his head. He didn't want to leave, while Mello was like this. These moments were so rare… Matt had always loved them, craved them like a drug. He stored them in his mind to think about while he was being beaten, just to give him something better to think about, hoping that would happen every day in the future. But he couldn't allow this to continue, though tears pricked his eyes at the thought of leaving. Mello looked back at him, seeming hurt that he had pulled away.

"I can't," Matt said, forcing himself to knee Mello in the crotch and break from his grasp. Matt winced as he glanced into his blue eyes, saw his face twisted in pain, and saw him glare at him angrily again. That gave him the incentive to run, and he did, without looking back.

About a (rather painful) mile or two later, Matt allowed himself to rest. He had ended up downtown, as noted by the heavy flow of traffic and multitude of people— shoppers, or loitering teenagers, some in groups, some alone— pushing past him, treating him as if he were trash, as worthless as the dirt beneath their feet.

At least Mello called me by name, he thought bitterly, slightly homesick. He may not have missed the way he was abused, but there, he was fed. Bathed. Everything, really— except loved.

Oh. Right. Love… That's why he left.

That was the one thing Mello had never been able to give. Sometimes it felt like he was being loved, cared for, by Mello. He'd look into his eyes and smile, full of warmth that made Matt smile as well. He felt warm inside when that happened. It was as if nothing bad would ever happen to him.

But if he loved me, he wouldn't hurt me. That's what people say, isn't it?

Matt continued to walk, pushing past the crowds of laughing people who were so caught up with their friends and boyfriends— the word made Matt long for Mello, for some inexplicable reason— to notice Matt, alone, head down, barely holding back tears. His bitter loneliness made him shove, a little too forcefully, some of the couples as they passed by, only glaring coldly and passing by if they yelled at him.

As the sun set and, eventually, disappeared as night fell, it grew colder and he had less and less people to walk by, watching jealously, or take out some on his frustrations on, seemingly accidentally. He desired a cigarette, desperately, as he'd rushed out too quickly to even think about snatching them. Not he regretted it; he didn't have any money, either.

And, to make matters worse, the thought of lighters reminded him of what Mello had done just hours before. That sent the lingering pain from the burns and forced, painful entry aflame once more, and he had to rest again so that it wouldn't overtake him.

Of course, as it grew darker— the streets, mostly deserted aside from a few others lingering in the area, were now only lit by dim streetlights, spotlighting certain areas but leaving most of them dark— it also grew colder. It was early January, after all, in the middle of winter. He'd only brought one coat, and, though his shirt was longsleeved, it was too thin to do much to protect him from the below-freezing temperatures.

He thought back to the embrace he'd shared with Mello, both never wanting to let go of the other. He'd been so happy then, so warm. He could have survived forever off of the heat Mello's body had so willingly given to him, off the love in that moment.

Remembering this made Matt's heart flutter. He wanted to go back, but he couldn't. He knew how, but if he went back, he'd have to leave again eventually. Matt couldn't live with him, but couldn't live without him, either. He felt so unfaithful, just leaving him like that.

He sighed. He wanted that moment back. It had been so perfect, so wonderful in every way. The way their bodies touched, pressing up against one another; the way Mello had kissed him, showing care for Matt for the first time in ages; the way he didn't need more than one word to express everything. He'd wanted Matt to stay. And Matt shot him down, kicking him in the crotch— a low move, even for what had just been done to him— and ran, ignoring the pain of the man he'd loved so deeply.

He wanted to cry. Hell, he wasn't free from pain or abuse just because he'd left Mello. Why did he think that? There was so much that could happen here, out on the streets. He could get killed for God's sake! What the Hell was he thinking? At least Mello kept him alive, off the streets, away from others who could harm him.

That only reminded him of how undeserving he was of Mello. He protected him, and he'd ruined it by fighting him and leaving. He didn't deserve Mello, not after he'd betrayed him, not even giving him a second chance, not even obeying the order to stay.

Mello was better off without him. Matt should have stayed. He could have put up with more. He deserved it, for leaving the room without permission. The pain was numb now. He should have stayed with Mello; what was the point of leaving to avoid the beatings if he wanted— needed— to go back?

He sighed, sitting down on the cold sidewalk, jumping slightly at the sudden coldness, but recovering quickly. He was completely numb, to both the cold and pain, so it didn't worsen what pain still lingered. Or, the physical pain, at least. He wanted to go back to Mello's arms, to the moment they shared outside their apartment building. Hell, he'd rather be being beaten in the apartment, being punished by Mello's warm touch. Maybe then he wouldn't be so damn cold…

He shook his head, growling in frustration. What the Hell did he do now? He had no plan whatsoever, though he'd thought of his escape many times. He needed a place to live.

Well… He did have connections. He could call one of his old schoolmates and live with him for a while… But it was less than ideal. They hadn't been on the best terms since he'd cut all communication on Mello's orders when they started living together. Still, it was his only option.

There were still a few people out, most of them hurrying to their cars or inside one of the still-open stores or restaurants. He approached a woman stepping out of a store. As soon as she did, an employee locked the doors and went back to cleaning the store; it was late, past closing time.

"Can I borrow your phone?" he asked politely, staying at a distance so that she didn't think he was an attacker. "Just for a minute."

The woman nodded, stepping closer hesitantly, handing it over to him. "Be quick, I have to get home."

Matt just nodded, and gave her a smile and a "thank you," before dialing the number he had memorized years ago.

Only moments later, the dial tone stopped, and he heard a scrambled voice say, "Hello?"

"Hi. It's Matt. Can you give me a ride? I'll explain everything later."

"You're awfully quick, aren't you? I'll be there in ten minutes. Stay where you are."

Click.

Dial tone sounded from the phone, and he flipped it closed, then handed it back to the woman. "Thank you," he repeated.

The woman nodded, then got in her car, slammed the door, and drove off, leaving Matt alone once again.

Matt leaned against the wall of a closed store, with the lights shut off and abandoned. He looked through the window longingly, staring at the cigarettes, but forced himself to turn away, sighing. He could see the breath that came out of his mouth, and that didn't help matters. It reminded him nostalgically of the smoke.

Matt knew the phone he'd called with had been tapped— most phones were, these days— and so he knew that the location would have been traced as well. He had no doubt that his ride would be coming in a few minutes. He just waited for it patiently, scared that, somehow, Mello would come after him in that time. He half-wanted it, but didn't want to go back to that after coming so far. He forced himself to think about other things— like the cigarettes. They were just sitting there, practically begging to be smoked…

Sure enough, within fifteen minutes, the limo pulled up beside the store that Matt was currently thinking of breaking into for the cigarettes. It was either just in time or a minute too early; he'd been on the verge of hacking into the security system.

"Are you going to get in or not?" an emotionless, familiar voice asked, rolling down the window, distracting him from the cigarettes.

Mello wouldn't bother him, not while he lived with him. The two were mortal enemies, after all. He felt a sudden, sharp stab of guilt that he would be living with the person the man he loved hated the most on the planet.

Ignoring it, he climbed in, and it sped off into the distance.

A/N: Aw. I always end up putting Matt through Hell in my stories. T_T Anyway, I know I called everyone sick freaks for enjoying it(you should see why now), but let me know what you think? Chapter two will be up sometime within a week or two… Whenever I feel like typing it all up. Reviews are greatly appreciated. (I'll love you forever?)