Author's Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MELLO!
I was watching random AMV's in my favorites list on YouTube, including one to "Pain" by Three Days Grace, for L and Light. And inspiration just hit. I had no idea how, but I wanted to make an LxLight fic centered on the song/based after it. But…I had no plotline whatsoever and couldn't decide if it should be canon or not, or lemony or not. So, then I thought about how I can't start working on another one-shot w/ all my other stories. But then again, Mello's birthday is right around the corner…^_- And thus starts a new trilogy for the Wammy Boys! Actually…
Welcome to my new birthday fic series. It's called Pain because it was the song that inspired it all and goes along w/ all of the characters. On all the birthdays for our fave main ((and not-so-main)) characters, I'll be posting a new chapter from their POV. Each chapter is named after a Three Days Grace song and has the lyrics to that one at the beginning, the lyrics to another at the end. Every story is interconnected and same w/ all the characters. Mello's is first for obvious reasons. Next up is Matt, who I think you'll all want to know the POV of from this…
There are many…odd pairings stemming from this. I can't say which ones are the "right" ones for the characters, but you might be able to figure it out. Just know: everyone's pretty miserable and all of these chapters will be full of angst. They're all taking place at the same time, too.
PS: No Misa because I forgot about her when I created the plotline to this. Sorry.
Warnings: MelloxLight, MattxNear, BBxL, BBxNear, MelloxMatt, LightxL. Anything else I need to explain? …Also, drug abuse and addiction. ((As I've said before, I don't know exactly what it's like, so I made up stuff and didn't go into specifics.)) Oh, and duh, sex…and rape. BTW, there is some comedy strewn throughout this. Laugh if you wish.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or "Pain" by Three Days Grace.
~Pain~
Pain
You're sick of feeling numb
You're not the only one
I'll take you by the hand
And I'll show you a world that you can understand
This life is filled with hurt
When happiness doesn't work
Trust me and take my hand
When the lights go out you will understand
Pain (pain) without love
Pain (pain) can't get enough
Pain (pain) I like it rough
'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
~ "Pain" by Three Days Grace
~Pain~
As I stare down at the ground, my mind draws a blank. Why am I sitting on a wooden bench in the middle of a park? Why do I want to kill myself? Why are my hands numb?
Oh, yeah. I was dumped. Me, dumped, you say? I know, it mystifies me, too, but it's one hundred percent true. Dead of winter, dumped when I was about to propose. I'd taken off my gloves—my only, hole-strewn pair—to get at the damn ring out of my pocket, and didn't have time to snatch them when I ran for my life. It's not as if I wanted him to see me crying.
Men don't cry, duh. At least, I couldn't…in front of a man like that. He was too good for me, wasn't he? He has a steady job, an apartment we shared, and only a slight addiction to cigarettes. Unlike me. I am a bum. I'd lost my job, moved in with him once I couldn't pay the rent on my apartment, and lost the rest of my savings on my drug addiction…and that damn ring. That was the last of my money…
Maybe I can pawn it. That could give me enough money to at least eat for a few weeks, even if I have to live off the streets and camp out in a gas station bathroom. Oh, and of course, my fix. Can't live without that, now, can we?
I can't feel my hands anymore. They are turning blue. And my breath isn't coming in easily. Is it me, or is there no oxygen left in the world? How long has it been since…? No, too long…Withdrawal…
My hands are still frozen numb, but the rest of my body starts screaming for more air. I can't breathe! And yet…I can still feel air whistling though my body, sending waves of sparking pain through my entire being. Then throbbing pain, just building and building until it is all I can feel. As if I am going completely numb, there is only one feeling…one agonizing sensation…I need that fix! Give it to me! Give me my life back, damn you!
So, I spent your money and mooched off you! So, I took advantage of you and raped you on more than one occasion! So, I had been dragged home more than often unconscious! So, I almost overdosed in your living room! So, I never said I loved you! That doesn't mean that I didn't really appreciate you! I still loved you! Just take back those biting words! Take me back and make me better! You think I like living like this?
I can't tell if I am sobbing or not, or if the cold against my cheek is the concrete or my own hand. I can't tell if it is day or night, winter or summer anymore. All I know is that I need him back to take care of me and stay with me for eternity. We are meant for each other, weren't we?
He needs me too, doesn't he?
I knew it! There he is, trying to get me back! No, let him work for it; I'm not taking that hand…
Then why does my arm try to reach up against my will and grab his hand? Where…where is he taking me? Home?
Arg! Another, stronger wave of pain, concentrating on my stomach. I can't handle it. I tried to be brave and strong, like he seems to be…carrying me now…but I just can't handle it.
~Pain~
My eyes open to brightness and a killer headache. But the rest of me seems to be gone. I can't feel a thing. The thought scares me. Am I a bodiless monster? No, I need that pain, need that feeling. Hey, where's my morning fix? It's usually on my nightstand, waiting for me; he leaves it there before he goes to work, knowing I won't be able to get out of bed to get it myself.
There is no nightstand on my right, either. No, it's on my left. This isn't right—no pun intended. I magically move an arm to the nightstand. The bed is too big for me to reach it. But then, I realize that I still have an arm to move, and a hand attached to it.
I look down to see the rest of my body still intact, just under a blanket. He must have covered me last night, right? I sigh in contentment until I realize that it isn't my sheet, my bed. And it's not his either. Where am I, then? This isn't good!
Was I kidnapped while incapacitated? Well, I do remember him taking me somewhere before passing out, but maybe it wasn't him? The guy sure looked like him…
Suddenly, nausea takes hold and I lean over the bed to puke, realizing there's a garbage can right beneath me. The stranger must have known I would barf. With a groan, I lie back in the bed. It's more comfortable than I'm used to, too.
I clutch my stomach in pain. Suddenly, all feeling comes back to me. I hate it too. It's not the right kind of pain.
"Oh, good, you're awake," I hear from the door. The voice isn't his. It's silky and smooth, but still warm and comforting. His voice is usually bored and gravelly…or screaming in agony.
I look over to see who this new guy is. He's standing in the doorway to the room I've never seen in my life. Arms crossed, his honey hair hiding his eyes—cut similarly to his, which is why I must've thought he was him. He doesn't look too friendly, but also not too cruel. Maybe I could stay here for a few days…
Another wave of throbbing pain goes through my body and I don't have enough time to get to the side of the bed before I throw up. The guy rushes over and holds my hair back as I puke on his bed, rubbing circles in my back. Once I'm done, he pulls me out of the bed bridal style and carries me to the same door he'd come from, into a bathroom. It's cramped, but he sits me on the closed toilet lid and cleans my face.
"I was running a bath for you before I heard you…um…throw up. Here, I'll help you and then I'll go change your sheets," he tells me. What's with this guy? Does he just randomly taken junkie strangers home and nurse them back to health or something?
I lie in the tub while he changes the bed sheets. I sort of feel sorry for him, having just puked all over white sheets. Then again, he should've known this was gonna happen.
Before I can sink all the way into the warm, comforting water, I notice a shampoo bottle in arm's reach. With a smile, I grab it. Even if the rest of me is lying in my own filth, there's nothing wrong with having luscious, clean hair. I haven't washed it in how long? No, I took a quick shower before I…never mind.
The shampoo is strawberry scented. Hmm…the guy out there really doesn't strike me as a strawberry kind of guy. But how am I supposed to really know? I just met him.
~Pain~
I had apparently slept for a full day and only had few more days of withdrawal left, another of those I slept all the way through as well. That day, however, was plagued with nightmares. Some of his last words to me, or old memories turned sour, or of a red-eyed demon taking away my fix.
The third day wasn't as painful as it could have been, but Light, as the guy had introduced himself, kept me company the whole time. I didn't really have the strength to talk, myself, and could barely keep down any food he gave me.
On my fourth day staying in his apartment, only slight aches held me back from being myself. Maybe I really didn't need that drug to keep me alive, keep me feeling good.
A week after my first day, and I was up and about, helping him with house-hold chores, making my own food when he went back to work. It didn't feel the same way as with…him. Sure, we still didn't talk too much, and I still mooched off Light, but there were no drugs or sex involved.
Dinner, one night, I just had to ask, though. "So," I start, scooping up some vegetables and shoving the disgusting things into my mouth. I chew and swallow begrudgingly before continuing, "Do you usually take home random druggies and take care of them until they're back on their feet, or did you just think I was too hot to pass up?"
He laughs and says, "While you are pretty hot, no, that's not what usually happens."
"Then what does?" I question.
"You, Mello, are the second person I've ever done this with," Light explains. I stare at him, dumbstruck. Seriously? A sad smile takes over his face and he goes on, "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind." Okay, touchy subject. I wonder what happened to the other guy… "Well, what about you, mister mystery?"
"Huh?"
"Why were you suffering on the streets if you seemed to have nice clothes and washed body and hair?" Oh, he's good. And it was true; I was wearing my good leather and nice puffy jacket with the fur-lined hood. Now, I was wearing extra clothes he had in "my" room: a baggy white shirt and blue jeans.
I hesitate before answering, "…My…my boyfriend…dumped me…"
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologizes.
I scoff. "No need. That lousy son of a bitch, good for nothing, bastard didn't know what he had until he lost it! Fucking idiot, Matt, you're so dead next time I see you! Just give me my gun and you'll be six feet under before you know it!"
"Calm down, Mello!" Light cries as he takes hold of me, wrapping his arms around me, constraining my arms. I'd somehow stood in my blind fury rant. We're breathing heavily, me staring at my hands. For a second, they flash red, bloodstained.
No…I could never kill him. I still love him, no matter what.
I sit down again slowly, with Light's help. Once he thinks it's safe, he lets go and walks back to his seat. We continue eating in silence. It's not the comfortable silence of before, but filled with tension and unvoiced questions.
Eventually, as we're finishing our dinner, Light decides to ask, "Was…was he the one who gave you…?"
"Huh? Oh, no. I was addicted long before we met. I was just able to…hide it better…No, my connection was some underground guy…BB was his name," I answer. Light chokes on his water and spits it out. But no matter how much I ask what was wrong, he refuses to answer.
~Pain~
"Fuck you!" I shout, throwing a pillow at Light. Another week has passed. Light's started pestering me to get a job. He said I was capable enough to do that, now that I wasn't addicted to any fucking drug.
But if I go outside, then someone might be able to find me. What if BB found me, huh? What would he do? He'd probably shove something down my throat for free, knowing I'd pay double for more the next day. What if Matt saw me? He'd…he'd probably shove it in my face how much better off he was without my sorry ass. No, I couldn't leave Light's apartment.
"Fuck you!" Light shouts back, throwing the pillow back at me, as well.
I throw it onto my bed and spread my arms out, shaking my hips. "Then why don't you? I know you're just about ready to burst since your old lover left you! I mean, you still have all his clothes and shampoo and toothbrush for Pete's sake!"
"Maybe I just should, you jackass! You're in need of a good dominance lesson! You think you own this place just because you started living here? Nuh uh! This is my fucking home and I'm in charge here!" Light screams back. He stomps towards me and shoves me. I fall onto the bed, not realizing what my words have caused.
"You fucking brat, you don't own anything. You know what?" Light holds my wrists above my head and snakes his free hand up my shirt. "I might as well be your owner!" He laughs rather creepily and straddles my hips.
"Get off!" I scream, wriggling beneath him. But our position has already started to turn me on and the friction really isn't a good idea.
With that same laugh, he replies, "Not gonna happen. You're still a fucking junkie in my eyes, and that's never gonna change. So you might as well give up, you weak, slimy nothing. Just live with the fact that you'll never win against me." His hand leaves my chest and goes towards my pants.
"I said, get off, you ass!" I yell in protest. But then a shock of pleasure rockets up from my groin. Shit, he's making me too goddamn horny.
His hand holding my wrists squeezes and his nails dig into my skin. I gasp. My pants and boxers are easily slid off and I can't stop him.
There's no love behind his movements, no care. But the pain he causes me in the intense moments that follow is better than that numb overpowering me when he's not around.
Panting, I scream for more.
~Pain~
Another two weeks later, and a month has passed. Matt hasn't bothered trying to find me…as if he cares. I haven't bothered looking for a job. But as punishment, Light…keeps me company at night. I still fight him every step of the way. I don't get how he can be stronger than me, and why I enjoy it so much…but I guess it's better than nothing, right?
Hell, I still want Matt and his careful, tentative hands stroking my body, brushing my skin ever so gently. Man, that sounded so freaking sappy. But it's true. I mean, sure, Light's pretty good in bed…when I'm not pushing him too far, but he's not boyfriend material for me.
I'm not numb anymore, at least. Drugs are done. I have Light to keep me physically alive.
I keep that ring inside my nightstand drawer. It's not as if it's a secret; Light found it in my pocket when he undressed me the first night we "met." But I just need it; I can't get rid of it. It's my last memory of him and I don't want to lose him completely. As long as that ring is still there, then I know I'm alive and I know that I can live another day. I ain't dead yet!
Nursing my tender backside—that's what I get for calling his highness a "whiney little bitch" last night—I make my way to the kitchen. Light's already left for work and I'm left to my own devices once I wake up, as usual.
What's good for lunch?
The door buzzer sounds. Thinking Light had just forgotten his key, I buzz him up, as I have before. Sometimes, he's a little distracted in the mornings after a particularly…rough night. But the knock on the door sounds too tentative to be his once he reaches our apartment. Still, I waddle over to the door to open it for him. Maybe he's sorry for thoroughly destroying my asshole last night.
But what surprises me is that it isn't Light standing in the doorway. It's some creeper wearing the same white shirt and blue jeans that Light has an overabundance of in my room. I happened to have thrown on one of the matching outfits after getting out of bed just a little while ago, so we looked like twins.
No way, was this his old fuck buddy?
"Who the hell are you?" I question. My legs are sore; stop making me stand so long.
"I could be asking you the same question," he replies. His voice is monotonous, bored. It reminds me too much of Matt's. I want this guy to leave, dammit. "Where's Light?" he asks me.
Trying to get him to go away, I respond, "Not here." He stands there, waiting. "He's at work, now go away." I try to slam the door in his face, but he stops me by holding his hand against the door.
"Please don't tell Light that I stopped by. I've gotta get going now," he says before turning and walking away. His creepily pale hands are shaking and he has this horrid hunch. I also noticed insanely large bags beneath his dilated eyes. If Light tried to help this guy, he sure didn't do a good job. Relapse city.
Maybe it's a good thing I'm off drugs, if I used to look like that. I mean, look at me now—I'm hot! Light's even said so! Still…he's been with that thing? Does he even have a type? I shudder but close the door behind me, ready to just relax and eat something for lunch.
As I sit, pain shoots up my spine. I groan, but relish it. It's so much better than the numb.
~Pain~
I need to run far away
Can't go back to that place
Like she told me
I'm just a big disgrace
…
Standing on my own
Remembering the one I left at home
Forget about the life I used to know
Forget about the one I left at home
So now I'm standing here alone
I'm learning how to live life on my own
~ "On My Own" by Three Days Grace
~Pain~
Author's Notes: Man, I had a lot of fun writing that! I wrote this literally right after Thanksgiving. Yeah, I'm messed up. Anyways, next up will be Mattie, meaning you're gonna have to wait for about two months before you see his POV of this whole thing. I really like how this turned out. I know, there's no actual lemon, but I honestly didn't feel like it. I don't think it was needed. You got the picture, didn't you? And I just can't write a lemon between these two guys. I can't write something that freaking kinky!
Next up will be… "Over and Over" for Matt. Think on that!
Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this little…Bizarre Fest. And yeah, everyone except one's really been hinted/introduced. You obviously know who that is, but he'll appear next chapter. Until then, take my hand and I'll show you the beauty that is pain. MUAHAHA! ((BTW, BB will be getting his own chapter on L's death day next year. Seems appropriate and disturbing.))
