Near was silent, the dark room looming around him, the only light was the electric blue of the monitors, displaying seemingly endless amounts of information. It was light, but not good light. A sickly light, as if the source were ill.

Near was alone in this room, surrounded by the inanimate objects that he was so fond of. In front of him was two dolls. Most 18 year old boys would be ashamed to be seen with these girlish toys. But Near cherished them. He stared at the blonde doll with blank, emotionless eyes. The figure was clad in black with chin length blonde hair. A silver cross hung from it's slender, plastic neck. Soulless, yet capturing the very essence of the man it was modeled after.

The other was a mini replica of himself, messy white hair falling about it's face. It was dressed in baggy white clothes, pajama's that polished the already smooth, flesh colored plastic.

However, his eyes focused on one doll, the blonde one. He held it in his intense gaze, thinking of the days when he and Mello were young.

I wanted you to know, that I love the way you laugh
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away

Mello was laughing, smirking, his eyes glittering. Glittering with amusement, happiness. Malice, perhaps, depending on the situation. But shining with something else. Something he had yet to learn to hide. They shined with pain and sorrow. With fear and anger and an assortment of other emotions that Near had taken the time to catalogue mentally. By looking in those eyes, brimming with emotion that others couldn't even pretend to see, he knew what the blonde was thinking when even he had no idea.

Near sighed and removed a picture from his breast pocket, looking down at the glossy image, worn and crinkled from the years. The only remaining picture of Mello; his beloved Mello.

He peered at the picture, his eyes taking in every detail for an uncountable time. The ghost of a smile adorned his pale features.

I keep your photograph, I know it serves me well
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

Near closed his eyes. He knew without Mello, a part of him will always be missing. Incomplete and broken. Shattered, Mello the glue that holds him together, selfishly taking pieces of Near away with him, maybe so he can remember the boy with vivid detail.

Because I'm broken
When I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

He slipped the photo back into his pocket, and with delicate fingers, he gently moved the blonde doll away from his own, setting it on the other side of him.

You've gone away
You don't feel me, anymore

Mello sat alone, staring blankly at nothing in particular. He was cynical, remembering his past. All his memories included Near, the one he hated more than anything. He hated how he could always see into him, into the depths of his soul. How he knew more about Mello than Mello knew about himself. But most of all, he hated how he couldn't hate him. Not truly and wholly like he tried to convince himself he did.

The worst is over now, and we can breathe again
I want to hold you high and steal my pain away

He despised how Near took it upon himself to help carry Mello's burdens. He couldn't stand being pitied by the younger boy.

There's so much left to learn
And no one left to fight
I want to hold you high and steal your pain away

And although he couldn't hate the boy, he could most certainly hate how empty he felt without him. How it seemed he needed the quiet genius to be complete.

Because I'm broken
When I'm open
And I don't feel like I'm strong enough

There was one last thing that connected Mello to Near. A picture. The last picture of him in the world. And it was in Nears possession. He came to realize; if he didn't get that picture back from Near, he would be haunted by the spirit of the boy forever. He would always be on his mind, always.

Because I'm broken
When I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Mello got up from the couch and grabbed his jacket. He was going. He needed to get his picture back from Near. He needed it.

Near was expecting him, seated on the floor, Lego's and models scattered around him. Mello threw open the door and stood there, the white light behind him silhouetting his body. His eyes were shadowed by the fur lined hood that was pulled over his silky blonde hair. Not that Near knew any of this. His back was to the man, the boy he once knew aged by four years, on the brink of official adulthood.

"Mello."

"Near."

And although he had come for his photograph-- for the last thing that linked him to Near, and Near to him, Mello found himself forgetting about the slip of laminated paper as his eyes took in Nears sliver of a body.

Near looked like he hadn't aged a day, his platinum curls in disarray, still clothed in his trademark white pajamas. Socks that were one size to big, bunching up at the ankle and loose around the toes. The weak boy he remembered.

Near finally turned, his gaze falling on Mello for the first time in four years. The boy-- no, man, no longer restricted by childhood, was hardened and rough. A jagged scar covered the left side of his face, dark and cruel against once soft skin and features. His years in the mafia were evident in the black leather and cold, heartless look Mello exhibited on his exterior.

Near got to his feet, padding up to the blonde.

"Mello..." He said again, rendered speechless with shock and lust. Shock at Mello's appearance, lustful for his touch.

And then he was being held. In the sick light of the monitors and the healthier light of the hallway, the two embraced, lovingly. Needingly, After "hating" each other for so many years.

The stood there for what seemed forever, just breathing in each other's scent, holding onto the other with fierce passion.

And then Mello came to senses. He didn't come here for this! He came here to remove himself completely from Nears life. Not deepen the cut, worsen the pain.

'Cause I'm broken

Mello pushed Near away, thin fingers fishing the picture from the others pocket before his body was out of reach.

When I'm open
And I don't feel like
I am strong enough

Near felt Mello's body leave his, strong hands forcing him away. He clenched his eyes shut, preparing for impact. His body hit the floor with a painful and ungraceful thud. He opened his eyes in time to see the end of Mello's jacket flutter around the corner, and disappear forever.

Tears welled up in Mello's eyes as he ran through the halls and into the sunlit street. He took a strangled breath of the fresh air, his chest constricting in despair.

'Cause I'm broken
When I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Mello tore the picture apart, little pieces of his teenage self floating away with the wind. The last pieces of his childhood, blowing away.

He leaned his head back, his face to the sky, his closed eyes blocking out the light of the sun. In his fists he held the last torn pieces, crumpling under the pressure of his fingers. His hood fell, uncovering his face. But he didn't care. Let the world see the tears that streamed down his cheeks.

He knew it would hurt. But he didn't think it would hurt this much.

Weeks passed. Weeks where neither spoke of the incident. Weeks where nobody knew of the moment they shared.

Matt was the first to die. Shot down by Takada's bodyguards, he died under Mello's command. Near found this out, but not the pain that Mello felt because of it. He blamed himself for the death of his best friend. Had this been their adolescent years, he would have offered Mello comfort. Comfort the older boy would have undoubtedly refused, but Near would be content knowing he had tried, that the blonde knew that someone was willing to help.

After Matt, much to Near's dismay, was Mello. Felled by Takada, his name written on a scrap of a Death Note page after he kidnapped her.

When Near heard the news, his heart stopped. It froze and plummeted painfully into his stomach.

"Mello-- Dead?! It can't be true!"

And yet, he knew without a doubt, it was the undeniable truth.

'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away

Near walked through the cemetery. Shoeless and dressed in his usually attire, he made his way across the well groomed grass, getting odd looks from the few in the graveyard as he walked by. But he ignored them, making a slow beeline to a certain someone.

He sank to his knees, kneeling in front of the brand new stone. He lay a bouquet of blood red roses beside the grave, his eyes obscured by a mess of curls. He reached out one hand, quietly, tentatively. His fingers brushed the smooth marble, outlining the name carved there. He pushed a little bit harder, his head bowed, sniffling quietly, a lone tear escaping his unseen eyes and slipping down his face and onto the grass below.

You've gone away, you don't feel me anymore.


I wrote this around New Years, but wanted to post it after I found out how Matt and Mello died. Well, I knew Mello's death for the most part, but not Matts. So here, you get this.

I wrote this in the two hour flight from Arizona to Washington, listening to this song the whole way. Oddly enough, I wasn't sick of it by the end of the trip, considering I listened to it almost non-stop on the way back home.

I am proud of this fic. For whatever reason, I really, really like it (It made my friends cry...). I don't think I've ever felt so good about a fic before it has reviews as I do this one. I hope you love it as much as I do.

-Hybrid