Neatly-manicured fingers tapped impatiently against a cheap wooden coffee table as a blonde young man glanced over at the clock for the umpteenth time. Worry and rage were in an all-out battle in his mind, and worry seemed to be winning at the moment. Matt was never late usually, it wasn't like him; he would have at least called, wouldn't he? He'd never pull this kind of shit on his partner unless he was either drunk, or something was wrong; judging by the hour, it seemed unlikely that Matt would be drunk, but there was always that possibility…

"Where have you been?! You said you'd be home three hours ago. THREE HOURS Matt!" The scolding began the minute Mello heard his partner's boots clunking up the stairs to their apartment, the walls were thin enough so there was no doubt he, as well as every neighbor above and below, could hear him. The door creaked open. "Where the hell have you been? I have work for you to do, and now we're gonna fall behind and Near is going to—."

Before the redhead could open his mouth to explain, his knees buckled. With a muffled thud he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"I swear to God, Matt, if you're drunk again…M-Matt?" the boiling rage had already begun to succumb to the worry in the pit of the blonde's stomach. He turned on the overhead lights to further examine why the stripe-clad teen lay unresponsive on the floor; by the numerous bruises on his face and neck alone and blood trickling down from the right lens of his goggles, alcohol was certainly not the culprit, or the primary one anyway... "Matt…"

Mello inhaled raggedly and ran a hand through his hair. There was no time for worry or questions; he had to see the extent of the damage to figure out how he was to treat it. Quickly he slid the fluffy vest and striped shirt off of the redhead, checking over every inch of his skin. There were numerous bruises, and several small cuts, but nothing that would be gruesome enough to make the teen faint, and seeing that there wasn't any blood on his jeans, there was no severe injury to his legs either, what could be seen externally anyway.

"Fuck…" Mello muttered to himself, tryin'g to rule out possibilities after god-only-knows what happened. Slowly, the limp figure in his arms began to stir.

"M-Mells?" Matt let out a ragged cough. "'M sorry I'm late…" he added, a fit of coughing shaking his thin frame, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth when it subsided. That couldn't be good.

"Matt, what happened?!" Mello demanded.

"I uh…fell down some stairs…" Matt said, avoiding eye contact, gripping his chest. Mello's eyes widened as he put the pieces together. Chest pain, coughing up blood, ragged breathing, there was no doubting anymore that Matt had cracked, most likely broken some ribs, and punctured a lung.

'Stairs my ass…' Mello pressed his lips into a thin line, realizing he wouldn't be able to fix this on his own. "I can do this…" the blonde muttered to himself, as long as he was careful, they wouldn't jump to conclusions about him either. "Come on Matt, we're going to get you some help."

Nervously, Mello paced the dirty floors of a dimly lit hallway, tensing and gripping his gun at every sound. He never liked the idea of putting his or Matt's health in the hands of a back-alley doctor, but with their affiliation with the mafia, even if Matt still remained anonymous, he wasn't willing to take the risk of getting them both arrested, or worse, given the whole mess with the Kira investigation. Even the slightest red flag of suspicion was the absolute last thing either of them needed.

Mello knew the crooked 'doctor' would have him paying through the teeth, and even then it wasn't guaranteed that the redhead would be helped, but it was all he could do. He was a higher up in the mafia, money wasn't all that hard to come by if he wanted it badly enough. Instead the catholic found himself pacing back and forth in a run down office building, clutching his rosary and turning it over in his hands, hoping that despite all the hell they'd been through in the past couple of months, God would at least be a bit more open to helping them out this time.

Eventually, the door at the end of the hall creaked open. "Well?" the blonde bellowed, clenching his fists. Just seeing that weasel-like man's face sent him into a blind fury, but for sake of his best friend, Mello was doing all he could to keep from wringing the older man's neck.

"He should be fine, a few cracked ribs and a punctured lung, fixed, and a fractured shoulder. I suggest some pain killers, and am sure you know where to find the good shit without me doing any paperwork. Now if we're done fooling around, shall we discuss my payment." He rubbed his tanned hands together greedily.

"Here." Mello thrust a large wad of money rubber-banded together at him, the bills on top of the hefty stack being hundred-dollar bills. "This should cover it. Keep the change…bastard" he muttered, stepping into the dark office to collect his partner. Matt staggered for a moment before the older teen looped his arm around him, supporting the teen as they limped to his cherry-red Chevelle.

The whole way home, Matt wouldn't so much as look at Mello. Instead, he kept his goggle-sheathed eyes fixed on the road. "Look. Matt. What's wrong?" Mello asked as he helped the redhead up the stairs to their apartment. When there was no reply, he could only assume that he was just shaken up from the day's events, it seemed logical enough, so why did it bother him so much that he didn't know?

Trying to ignore it, he took a few shots of vodka and brandy, the tv droning on some reality show in the background as he tried to calm his nerves while Matt went straight to bed. The blonde kicked off his heavy leather boots, finishing off what little remained in the bottle of his favorite brandy, the blackberry flavor mixed well with his chocolate. He reached for his third bar when he heard the weak, muffled groan from the other room.

"M-Mello!" Matt tossed and turned in his sleep. Without a second thought, Mello bolted down the hallway into Matt's bedroom, placing a hand on his sweat-covered forehead, lightly shaking him awake.

"Matt…shhh, Matt. What's wrong?" he asked, sitting on the side of the mattress, the younger boy's figure trembled viciously beside him. Whatever had happened to Matt was a lot more than he had let on. Mello had known from the start that the 'falling down the stairs' was complete bullshit, but at the time he was more focused on getting his best friend the help he 'd never seen Matt act remotely like this in the eleven years he'd known him, and frankly, it scared him. "Matt, I need you to tell me what happened."

"I can't."

"Tell me Matt." Mello demanded. "No matter what it is, you need to tell me,"

"I can't!"

"Matt!"

"A few of the guys from the mob...hey know something about me, and they've been holding it over me for some time now…at first it didn't really matter, just dumb jokes here and there…y'know, being called a fairy and shit, didn't bother me. Then they got handsy, told em to fuck off, thought it'd get them to step off...but then today, they cornered me and…they took turns….one held me down while the others...M-Mello." Matt said, Mello didn't need to hear any more to figure out where his explanation was headed. Matt's eyes, even in the darkness, met the icy blues of the older boy's as tears streamed out of his vulnerable green eyes. "All because they knew I had feelings for someone…"

"Matt I-I didn't know…why didn't you tell me…I could have made sure nobody came near you…I mean it doesn't bother me that you…y'know…but- hell I could have shot them, Rod wouldn't have given it a second thought!"

"Because it's you Mello." Matt said quickly, heavy sobs racking his frame. The blonde was awestruck. The worry was finally gone, replaced with rage. But this rage was different, stronger. No, he wasn't angry at Matt, quite the contrary, instead, he wanted to find and kill those bastards that touched him. He wanted to ensure they got what they deserved, and that it would be given to them in the most painful manner he could fathom. At that moment, he felt more protective of the gamer than he ever had before, all he wanted to do was to take him into his arms and never let go.

He'd make sure nothing ever harmed a single red hair on his head again; he'd be safe, happy, loved.

The air felt heavy as his mind processed the words. Loved. No, he never really thought he'd ever feel love again after losing his mother, but then came Matt. No matter what went wrong in Mello's life, Matt was right there beside him to help him pick up the pieces. He even came so far as to following Mello to Los Angeles, risking his life to help him catch Kira.

He could never imagine a life without Matt, and he wasn't about to try to. He had his Matt in his arms, and that was where he was going to stay.

"It'll be okay Matt," Mello's voice was unusually soft. "I promise. They aren't going to get away with what they did to you. In the morning, you tell me everything, and I'll give the orders." He stroked Matt's hair gently.

"B-but what about right now?" Matt asked, wiping his face with his sleeve. The blonde smiled, wrapping his arms around the gamer, kissing him lightly on the forehead.

"Right now, I want to do something I should have done a long time ago." He leaned in, meeting his lips with a tender kiss. Matt was shocked at first but then eagerly returned the kiss.

"Nobody is ever gonna hurt you again Matty, I promise," Mello whispered, nuzzling his face into the red locks, taking in the smell of tobacco and cheap shampoo. It even made chocolate seem unappealing. "I love you Mail."

"I love you Mello."