OK! Sorry for all the bad spelling! Set when Mello blew him self up...

"Good morning Lady's and gentlemen and welcome to another bright and beautiful day!"SMACK" We're here with the newest and greatest hits to rock you on to work!" SMACK, grown " And to start us off, a new single, He left me standing all alone!" CRASH!

Great, I thought, perfect. Now I need a new alarm clock. Again. I groaned.

Well... My clocks broken and it's a Saturday..., I rolled over, snuggling back under into the warmth of my small, cheep but never the less cosy, bead, nothing else to do but sit back, sleep in and-

beep beep beep beep beep beep beep!

My eyes snapped open. No.

I was up in a second. the sound of my feet slamming down on the creaky floorboards, deafening in the silence. I grabbed hold of the door frame to the tiny lounge of my apartment, throwing my self into the cramped room.

Nononononononono!

I ran over to one of my many laptops, my eyes desperately searching the screens for lies.

NONONONONONONONONO!But there he was, leaning against a desk with a gun pointed at his head, talking to the holder of said gun as if he were an old Friend. Eating chocolate. And holding a switch of some kind. My eyes widened.

He wouldn't! He couldn't! He... he... just did...

...Idiot.

I don't remember leaving my apartment, or getting jumping into my car and speeding off at break neck speed. I don't remember how many red light's I ran, how many cop cars I got, and lose, or how many old lady glares I got. I didn't know. I didn't know. I didn't care. Because Mello. Mello. Mello.

Was going to be fucking dead when I got my hands on him.

Note to self: Next time think before running into a burning building that's about to collapse. Side note to self: bring fire extinguisher to prevent self from being burnt alive, thus defeating the propose of entering said building to begin with. Side side note to self: get new car seat. Preferably ones that ain't flammable.

I gasped in pain as I wrapped the bandage tightly around my left hand, trying not to through up, ...again, at the sight of the charred flesh.

I put the bandage down and walked back into my tiny lounge room, and there he was. Lying on my couch like he'd never left. Like we were back at Wammy's, and Rogered caught us stealing chocolate from the kitchens, and locked us in our room, telling us we weren't aloud out until we'd 'thought about our actions'. Like we were spending our night 'thinking about our achtions' by playing video games and eating chocolate ( the later of which I was never aloud to participate in... even if I did face Rogers wrath to retrieve it).

His gun sat beside him, bandages and towels were scattered around the room, all soaked the same sickeningred of blood. Bowls of water, died to match my hair, lay out on the coffee table. along with a large bottle of alcohol I'm used to disinfect his burn. His shirt had was totally destroyed, and now lay in a burned heap in the corner, his leather pants along with them.

His rosary, some how unscathed by the fire, now lay in it's place around his neck. I prayed to god that it would help. His head rested on the armrest, bandages criss crossing his chest, neck and half his face, a pare of grey sweat pants covering his legs.

I sat quietly down next to him and sighed, brushing the golden locks out of his face. He still slept the same. Spread out over the couch, his arms and legs taking up as much room as humanly possible. His chest still rose and fell in the same Mello way, his golden hair still framed his face, making him look like an angel... till he opened his mouth. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair. Burnt, but some how still as soft as ever.

He was not the same Mello. His face was harder then it was before, his shoulders broader, his arms stronger. And the leather. The bandages hid the wound that took up most of the left side of his face, an angry red I knew, even then, would forever haunt my every dream. A constant reminder of the time I was too late. But... even then, the stronger body, the harder face, the leather... even the angry red scar, he would still be the same old Mello, still be Mello, except... A frown.

A simple yet definite way to tell me that the man that was in frond of me was not the old Mello. The old Mello was a bitch with the face of an angle. He was tuff as bricks and he never backed down. But when he slept... when he slept his face lit up with a simple smile. It was small, and barley even visible, but it was there. The one sigh that despite all the shit that had happened to him, despite how fucked up and terrible this world was, he still believed it had some good in it, that it was worth fighting for. With just one innocent, tiny, insignificant smile, he gave me hope. And with one tine frown, he tor it all away.

" ... Who the fuck are you?" I looked down in shock, my goggled eyes meeting his icy blue glare.

...Crap...

Ok, so tell me what you think. I wrote it when I was supposed to be focusing on bone marrow and it was supposed to be a oneshot for my friends birthday... but oh well...