I CAN'T STAND TO BE WITH OUT YOU

A BBS EVIL LITTLE SISTER FIC

WRITEN BY AKUMU BIRTHDAY

I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE

I made it in to the mafia. I was scared. I was a fourteen year old orphan in a powerful mafia- and huge country -with no one. Wait, I'm not scared! I am Mello! Still, I'd feel better if Matt was with me... I hope he doesn't mind that I stole his favourite shirt...

"Oi, runt, stop mopping and go kill this guy. He's pissing me off and I want him dead!" my boss, Rodd Los, ordered, chucking a photo at me.

I looked at said picture. This guy was a rival mafia leader, stealing our stuff. This was my life now. Running around for other people, killing their enemies. I almost miss the semi-peaceful atmosphere of Wammy's House. Back then the only fear I had was if Roger, Watari, or L would tell Matt and I off for beating Near. And even earlier, around four years ago, I was frightened of Backup snapping and going on a killing spree. He did, in this very city, but that had nothing to do with anything.

I grabbed my gun and walked out, making sure I had a change of clothes waiting for me when I got back. I would have to get the man's head back here, so I grabbed a meat cleaver- which a girl back at Wammy's called her best friend, but she was about as strange as B.

I made it to the target's hide out. It's not like anyone would expect a fourteen year old to be going out and murdering mafia leaders. I was the perfect cover.

Sneaking in, I figured out the way to the boss's room. This place was much less confusing than my own, so moving around was easier done than said! The room of this guy was the easiest thing to find in this place. This mafia must have put all its effort into raiding places and not making sure they wouldn't get raided.

I hid in his room until he showed up. This guy was uglier than in his picture and Rodd Los combined! I silently slid my gun out and shot. Cause of death: bullet to the brain. Time of death: instantaneous.

I pulled out the best friend of the girl- Nightmare –the meat cleaver, and chopped his head off. My God these dead people bleed!

I carried the head back to my own headquarters, going straight to the meeting room, head, gun, and meat cleaver in tow.

"Hey, runt, you kill him?" Los snapped at me. I didn't respond other than to put the head on the table, right in his line of view.

"Wow, kid, didn't know you had it in ya. Good going," Rodd said, chucking a bar of chocolate at me.

I headed back to my room to get changed, but I didn't feeling like staying awake, so I just stripped down to my underwear, seeing as I didn't have any pyjamas.

I fidgeted and turned for hours until midnight. This wasn't normal; I used to be able to fall asleep, and sleep like the dead, but tonight I just couldn't. I reached into my bag and pulled out a slightly oversized shirt. It was one of Matt's black and white striped shirts. I slipped it on. It was just a little big, seeing as I was much more petite than him. I hugged myself and took a deep breath in; it still smelt like my red-haired roommate. I sobbed into the sleeves, hoping no one would hear me.

I couldn't stand to be without him...

Three years later...

I still have no clue where the hell he is! I've been looking for him for three years now. This search has put so much stress on me that I took up smoking! Mello is not going to be happy when he sees me... if he's even still alive. I know the little blond shit was the one who took my shirt, but it had sentimental value to the both of us. It was my first striped shirt, and Mello bought it for me. It was the beginning of our friendship.

I walked into a bar, this one I visited often, even though I started when I wasn't old enough to legally drink, these guys knew I carried a gun on me. They wouldn't deny me anything I wanted if they valued their limbs and lives. I guess Mello's temper had rubbed off on me.

I sat down, ordering my drink. I then noticed someone sit three stools away from me. No one, and I mean no one, ever sat within five seats of me, so this was unprecedented and weird.

This person snapped at the bar tender and she was scared to say the least. This person had a black hoodie on, with the hood up, and the hood had a black and tan fur lining. The person was also wearing black leather pants, which would have had to be uncomfortable. From what I could see was that this person had blond hair and wore a red rosary around their neck.

The late November air was flowing though the bar, and it was late, but there was only about ten people here, since it was a Wednesday. Out the corner of my eye I saw the mystery person look over at me, heard them gasp, and turn back around. I saw that this person had a worn black duffle bag. The same kind of one Mello took with him all those years ago, I noted.

I stood up with my drink to move to my normal booth, and I noticed the person had moved, and to my booth.

"Excuse me, but this is my booth," I said to the person.

"You're only eighteen, stripes, I think I out rank you by age," the person said. This person, who I had already deciphered as a guy, knew my age, and seemed to laugh while saying that. The voice was also familiar.

"Fine, I'll just sit with you," I decided. Not caring what this person said.

I noticed a sleeve sticking out of the duffle. It was obviously too small for this person, and they didn't seem like one to wear black and white stripes.

I sat across from this person, who also wore sunglasses so that their eyes weren't shown. They had a fresh burn scar on the left side their face. I was correct on the rosary and blond hair, which I now knew fell in uneven cuts around the shoulders, and the fringe was also uneven. They seemed familiar, but I've never been one for names.

"What happened to your face?" I asked.

"I was in an explosion last week," he dismissed, as if it were normal or insignificant.

"How old are you?"

"Same as you, but I'm nearly nineteen, so I'm still older."

"How do you know my age?"

"Heh heh, I thought you would have recognised me by now, but you've been a forgetful, stripe-obsessed, gamer-freak ever since we became friends."

I could only blink. How did this person know all this about me?

"I guess I should take these off," said the person taking off the sunglasses.

I saw a pair of eyes with a mixture of ocean and ice blue. There was only one person in the world that could know all this about me and have those eyes. I leaped over the table to hug him.

"Mello!" I cried.

We went back to my place, to live. But that night, I heard crying, and I had to see what was going on. I opened Mello's door and I saw him huddled up in the middle of the bed, leaning against the wall, sobbing into a piece of material.

I neared him in sat next to him, hugging him from behind. I felt Mello tense, but loosen up again after he realised it was me.

"What's wrong, Mells?" I asked.

"I've had a lot of trouble sleeping for years. I would cry myself to sleep; with this," he said, holding up the material. It was my first striped shirt.

I hugged him tighter, and before he drifted off to sleep, Mello whispered, "I can't stand to be without you, Mail..."

Yay! This made me so happy! M2 fluffiness! This idea came to me when I was going though some Touch My Mafia cosplay pictures on DevantART! Seriously, if you haven't heard of them, they are the best DN cosplayers ever! It was one by Reimei-No-Shi, the Mello cosplayer, and he was wearing a Matt shirt, so I just had to write this. It was originally going to be called Mello's First Week in the Mafia, but then I added the part with Matt, and I decided to change the name. I really hope you all like it and I did M2 proud! Review!