A/N:
Yeaaahhh...another shitty title.
Surprise, surprise. The Original Gamer here in DISGUISE. Okay, not really, but I suppose I should still clarify things.
A) It IS in fact, The Original Gamer here.
B) Matty and Raven (RavenFire40, look into her, she's awesome seriously) have decided to get a joint account so they can…well combine their skills and make their fics even more awesome.
C) As of this fic here I, Matty, will be writing from Matt's POV. And Raven will be writing from Mello's. ('Cos her Mello OWNS my mushy Mello ;3)
ANYWAY, we thought it'd be nice to start with a sort of…bang, y'know? This fic will no doubt be angsty and all that fun stuff. ENJOY IT.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, very obviously. Otherwise you wouldn't see Matt the most in fan fiction and he'd have a REASON to be one of the most popular characters. (*cough* By being more apparently Mello's bitch in the series. *cough* :'D) I don't own Dixie either, props to Raven for her. I also DO NOT own Super Bomberman, which is a fucking awesome game, or SuperNintendo, though it is my goal one day to be CEO of their company. Heh.

The noisy din of the dining hall filled my senses, worming its way into my mind and refusing to let go. It wasn't as if I minded much; the more noise, the harder it was to think. Which was exactly how I wanted it to be. Thinking had just grown to be one of those things I avoided as much as studying or going outside; something I didn't want to put up with. Thinking led to brooding, and brooding led back to the unnecessary misery I just couldn't handle.

Absently my fingers drummed against the table, eyes focused on the faux wood grains. I could trace no specific pattern in them, not without my mind forcing it. They just sort of stayed as they were, meaningless and empty, just there to look good.

A lot of things were meaningless and empty nowadays.

A light touch to my shoulder jarred me from my wandering thoughts. Only mentally of course, it wasn't as if I'd really jumped, or shown any sign I'd noticed at all. As it would be rude to ignore my companion, I glanced over, raising one brow in expectance. The blonde gestured towards the still untouched plate of food before me, a small frown tugging down at her lips.

"You should eat Matt," It didn't sound so much like a suggestion or order, but more like she was pleading with me. I knew she was worried, it was written all over her face, and it had me feeling incredibly guilty. It's not like I was out to make her constantly worried; I didn't mean to cause her stress. It just sort of happened before I could stop it. No matter how hard I tried, things weren't the same, and I couldn't cover it all up completely.

It was an awful good thing she didn't know the extent of my pain. No one did, nor would they ever. That was for me, and me alone, no need to bother anyone else.

"I'm not really hungry," I responded truthfully, prodding at the carrots on my plate with my fork. One of the crinkled disks gave away a bit under my prodding, squishing down until it was sliced in half, some of the orange mush clinging to the metal tines. That just didn't look appetizing at all to begin with, making my stomach churn with distaste. Most things did it seemed; I didn't eat much more then was needed to keep myself up and about and alive. I wasn't ever hungry.

The hand that had just been resting on my arm was now holding onto it, applying a light pressure. It wasn't to show she was irritated with me -I was sure of that- most likely it was just to drag my attention back to her. Made me think of how Mello would have been about ready to hit me for my defiance.

Not that he ever had.

Namely to distract myself, I looked back over to the blonde girl, tilting my head towards her to show I was listening. An eye roll was given to this, and a heavy sigh as she removed her hand from my arm, pointing to the plate again.

"You're never hungry Matt. You never eat more than a few bites at a time. You can't keep going on like that y'know, you're losing a ton of weight you definitely don't need to. I can swear sometimes you're thinner than me and-"

I held up two fingers, silently gesturing for her to be quiet, shaking my head, a little grin toying at my lips. "Dixie, relax. I'm fine, I swear, so don't worry. Please?" She shouldn't worry, I would survive, I had survived, had I not? Maybe it was because of her. After all, she was the one at my side the moment I'd found out Mello had left, and had stuck there since. She was the reason I kept up appearances and didn't just lock myself away from the world until Mello returned. She was the reason I put on a smile and an easy façade, the reason I could sometimes genuinely laugh or smile, and the reason I still had hope that Mello was coming back.

Then again, she wasn't Mello, would never be Mello, and could never come close. Even now, as I kept my gaze on the blonde before me, I was comparing, catching every wrong detail, each one like a knife to the heart. Blue eyes, like Mello's, but his were lighter, icier, more brilliant in color. Blonde hair too, but Mello's just skimmed his shoulders, always set and perfect, as opposed to hers tugged back in a lazy ponytail. Sitting down, I could still tell that Mello was several inches taller, more built, and obviously much less feminine. Her features were soft and gentle, whereas Mello's were sharper, more intense. Even the differences in their clothing styles got to me, she wore bright, warm colors to his black.

As if these things weren't bad enough, the differences in their personalities just made things all the worse. Mello wouldn't be pleading with me to eat, wouldn't be grabbing my attention with gentle touches. No…it'd be something more like: 'Dammit Matt, quit being a fucking dumb ass and get over yourself. Eat something or so help me god I won't hesitate to shove food down your throat.'

It was amazing how well I could still play out Mello's voice in my head, could picture the expression that would go along with it. His jaw would be clenched, very obviously straining the muscle, eyes narrowed into that chilling glare of his. One eyebrow would remained arched up though, as if questioning why I even dared try and say no to him. Hah…pathetic it was, that was all I had, a cleverly crafted mental image. Not Mello…I didn't have Mello. He wasn't here, hadn't been here. Two years, nine months, and eleven days in counting.

'Yeah…you're right, he'll be back. Probably just went and got side-tracked in class or something, nothing to worry about.' A nervous laugh and Matt moved towards the drawers that held his and Mello's belongings. Despite his reassurance to himself moments before, fear choked at his throat, because something was wrong, very wrong. 'Matt…you okay?' Dixie's voice came from behind him, slender hand resting on his shoulder. He didn't shrug it off, didn't react at all, still digging through the drawers desperately.

'Mello's things! They aren't here!' Even his voice was laced with a strong panic, choked and shaking. The girl gave a frown, quickly setting about helping him in his search.

'There's something here, I'm sure. Relax Matt.'

Moments passed in silence other than his frantic breaths and panicked riffling through the entire room, searching vainly in search of signs that his best friend was there still.

'Nothing! Where is it?! There's got to be something! He hasn't left…he hasn't!' Even as the words spilled out, Matt could hear the vain desperation in his own voice, tears leaking out and spilling hot down his face. It felt as if someone had ripped out his heart and thrown it aside, leaving a big, gaping, empty hole in its place. Mello was gone.

Just thinking about that sent a shock of pain through my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, fist clenching up under the table, willing the hurt to go away.

It had been years since that day. Three long, painful years, and with months to add on. There was nothing comparable to the pain of being separated from Mello. Everywhere I looked, something was there that brought him to mind, it was impossible not to think about him. Not to miss him. Every day he wasn't here was another day it was a struggle not to break down entirely and close in on myself. Every day was a new pain in the chest, stretching the hole wider, toying with the very seams that held me together.

But Mello was coming back. I wouldn't lose the hope, I couldn't lose it. No Mello was almost as bad as no oxygen.

Scratch that, it was worse.

For now I was content to wait. Okay, so maybe not content, but I would wait. No matter how long it took, I would wait for Mello, because he was coming, he was.

"…Matt, should we go back to the room? I've still got to beat you at Super Bomberman, remember? Can't leave your Super Nintendo neglected, now can we?" By the sound of her voice, I could tell Dixie was trying to lighten my mood. She'd become attuned to it lately, being able to tell when it was low and when I was relatively okay, despite how hard I tried to keep a sense of normalcy about myself. I wasn't irritated by this, rather…relieved. She knew when to give me a distraction, and when to give me space. Heck, she'd even taken to sleeping in my bed the same way I used to sleep with Mello.

Only it wasn't the same.

That wasn't to say I wasn't thankful, of course I was. I would never push her away; I owed her way too much. No one else would put up with me the way I was at the moment, I was sure.

Silently, I stood, nodding my head in answer to her question. Not a word escaped her either as she followed in suit, dumping her plate into the garbage can after mine. As I made my way out, her hand found my own, giving a squeeze of reassurance. 'I'm here', it said.

She was here, yes, but Mello wasn't.

It wasn't ever going to be the same thing, no matter how hard she tried.

A squeeze was given in return though, letting her know I understood. It was apologetic even, after all, I was putting her through all this and not giving much back in return. It wasn't like I hadn't warned her from the start, but I still felt guilty. It was hard not to. Yet she never complained once, never told me to man up and stop sulking, never told me I was wrong and Mello was never coming back. She understood, she knew, and she cared.

Which was what I needed most to get me through whatever Mello-less time there was to come.

"So you're going to beat me this time, huh?" Finally I forced words out, unable to leave the silence hanging.

Amazingly my voice sounded normal, teasing even, just as it should have come out.

A smile touched her lips, pleased that I was at least trying. "You bet I am. I've had a lot of practice over the last few years. You couldn't have lead yourself to believe that I was going to let you keep your mastership forever." Her voice was equally teasing, and she nudged me playfully in the ribs, blue eyes relaxed and happy.

The conversation of sorts continued on smoothly, teasing insults and good-natured challenges passed between us, easing the previous tension that I'd created. It grew easier and easier to hold my smile, and the laughs came out much less forced and awkward sounding. It was enough to say I was content, not happy, not perfect, but close enough. She'd taken to twining her fingers in with mine as we walked, leaning in and keeping close. "I've got after class work to take care of y'know, so don't keep me locked up in here too long." Dixie warned, pulling a mock stern expression as I set my hand over the doorknob to the room I'd once shared with Mello. I gave an eye roll, pushing the door open with a small laugh.

"Me? Keep you locked up? Yeah right, I'd say you were the one who-" I cut off abruptly, eyes widening as I caught sight of a very significant change in the room.

Or rather, a very significant someone in the room.

Sitting on my bed, devastatingly gorgeous as always, clad completely in dark, revealing leather, was a certain hot-headed blonde. His expression was completely serious, and slightly bored, eyes fixated on nothing in particular. That was, until Dixie gasped in shock, having caught sight of him as she entered the room behind me.

Those icy eyes focused on us in an instant, looking even sharper and more intense then I remembered. They were on me first, scrutinizing, and…relieved almost? I couldn't be sure from here. Then they shifted, resting on the blonde girl beside me with a look he usually reserved for Near. This fact went unregistered other then the initial noticing, because all I could think of was that he was here. At last, after years without him, he was back.

I was right. He wouldn't leave me, not forever, he had come back.

"Mello!" I finally cried out in complete and utter delight. Without much thought I'd practically flung myself on him, not caring how awkward a position we might have ended up in. I held on tight to him, practically quivering with joy at having him back. Words could not describe how numbingly happy I was, the pain of the past months practically forgotten at the pure pleasure of being able to touch, and hold, and be with Mello again.

"Jesus Christ, Mello." I muttered against his throat, clutching tighter at him, mentally thanking every god I knew in existence while simultaneously praying that Mello would never leave me again. I wasn't going to be so dramatic as to say I wouldn't live if he did, but it definitely wasn't something I was willing to experiment with. Hell if I was ever going to let go of him again.

At this rate, that could possibly be taken literally.

Want to keep us motivated? ;3
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