Conciousness
Disclaimer: We do not own any of the characters within this story
BC: Yet another Death Note fanfic :)
Joys: Sorry that it has been awhile, but exams have overtaken our lives
BC: Overtaken is an understatment...
Joys: But we hope you like this new story of ours!
XD XD XD
Mello written by JoysOfL
Matt written by Blankcanvas23
Chapter One.
Mello POV
All Mello could feel was pain. There was a tight pain in his chest, which he assumed was from all the smoke inhalation, there was pain in his ankle, as he had twisted it trying to get out of the wreckage, and there were small stabbing pains all over his body from the numerous cuts bruises and burns that he had accumulated throughout the duration of the night. But most of all there was the searing pain across the left side of his face.
He tried with all his might to remember how exactly he had gotten burnt. He knew, obviously, that it was when he had detonated the building, but he wanted to know the exact moment. All he knew for a fact was that one moment there was nothing, and a flash of light later, the pain appeared on the side of his face as suddenly as if he had been shot, which, considering the commotion, could have been a plausible explanation.
He had never felt anything quite this bad. The only thing that he could summon to mind was the pain he had felt the day he had left Whammy's house, knowing that he may never see Matt again. But this burning was at a whole new level. He couldn't block it out like he did the last time, he couldn't distract himself like he could before, he couldn't even try to console himself by saying that there was a chance that things could go back to normal again, because even though he hadn't been able to bring himself to glance at his reflection in any of the grimy shop front windows that he was passing, he knew this was going to scar. Bad.
As he continued to make his way along the street, not having a clue where in fact he had ended up, his vision started to blur. He leant against the brick wall of a graffiti-covered store to try to catch his breath and regain his sight. If spending so much time with the late Mafia members had taught him anything, it was to never let your guard down, because an attack could be just around the corner. And having just escaped from the police force working against Kira, the chances of an attack were practically tripled right about now.
Lights started to flood his vision and his head began to swim. Realising that his consciousness wasn't going to be around much longer, he staggered, supporting himself with his left shoulder pressed against the cold brick, to a dark alleyway on the far side of the shop. Upon turning the corner his foot got caught on an old discarded pillow that had fallen out of the dumpster, making him fall to his knees. With a cry of pain, Mello started to crawl. He made his way along the ground, feeling the grime on his fingertips until he reached the far wall of the alley, disturbing a stray dog as he went, who, upon looking up from his sleep, decided Mello wasn't much of a threat, and letting out an irritated snort went back to sleep.
There, leaning against the wall, his head throbbing like he had never known, and the searing pain becoming increasingly unbearable, Mello fainted.
Matt POV
Matt was pacing around the living room.
Even in his head, none of that statement felt like it contained the slightest semblance of the truth. The living room was in such an uninhabitable state that he couldn't say that anyone actually lived in it; more like, it was the most central room in the shitty apartment and they basically threw all their crap there.
Pacing would infer a stride, with rhythm. Matt was shuffling, stepping, and occasionally tripping over stray extension cords, keyboards, CD's and recording equipment.
And he didn't feel like Matt, the dork who knew too much about computers and video games. He felt like a misfiring circuit; sometimes adrenaline would spur him into a frenzy of action and he would have Mello's number half dialled, and then lethargy would carry him down the twisting waters of 'what if', and he would decide against calling the blond.
Mello had left the apartment for the Mafia den in the morning, throwing a cursory wave as well as his leather coat over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. Matt had stood in the doorway, fag dangling out of his mouth and tried to fight the urge to wave back.
That had been a good fourteen hours ago.
He was being ridiculous, worrying. Matt was used to Mello's late nights; used to Mello showing up at midnight smelling of tequila, used to Mello staggering in in the mornings smelling of blood. He didn't say anything, wouldn't; because he was just happy Mello had shown up at all.
Nevertheless...
His fingers, out of their gloves, played with the buttons of his cell nervously.
He wasn't going to err on the side of caution when it came to Mello. He'd already lost his best friend once. Matt hadn't had the guts to go after him then, not knowing how Mello would react; (pleased? angry? with extreme prejudice?) but he would've like to have though that he was braver now than he was as a twelve year old kid.
Matt, with all the determination of a climber heading towards Everest, flipped open the phone, dialled Mello's number, and held it resolutely against his ear.
Ring Ring. Ring Ring. Ring Ring.
Matt sincerely hoped Mello would pick up and tell him he was an idiot.
Ring Ring. Ring Ring. Ring Ring.
Cause he felt like an idiot now. He wasn't supposed to call unless Kira was in the apartment; Mello always called him. And Matt was entirely comfortable with this system.
Ring Ring What if he was in a meeting with the Mafia?
Ring Ring What if he was about to kill someone?
Ring Ring What if he's speaking to Kira?
His call waiting tone would beep a part of him answered, and Matt let out a snort just as Mello picked up.
"Matt... Help."
Joys: We hope you liked the first chapter
BC: As always, read and review