So this was another floating about piece. The only completed short fic that hasn't been put up, I do believe. And it felt left out. So tada!



Matt's lying in a hospital bed. A proper hospital bed.

He can tell by the way the sheets feel too clean, and the pillows too plump, and the air too… too damn healthy. But because he can tell this, must mean he has some sense of realisation. And because he has a sense of realisation, must mean that his mind is still functioning. And for his mind to still function, he has to be alive. So hell fucking yeah, those bullets didn't kill him.

In his semi-conscious state, he wondered who saved him in the end. It can't have been the bastards that gunned him down, they did it without question, why on earth would they want to save him? Must have been someone else. Some one quick, probably with an ambulance.

He made a mental note to ask around when he felt up to it, up to it as in, able to move. They probably deserved a thank you.

"Are you able to open your eyes, or would you prefer to converse with them closed?"

A level, causal voice, somewhere to the right of him.

"I can tell you're awake because your heart rate has changed, and your chest is moving at a different level, indicating your breathing has also been altered by your change in conscious state," they continued.

Matt suppressed a groan, and shifted his head to face the pale boy who would no doubt be hunched in a chair beside him. Cracking open an eye he squinted at the teen, who was indeed hunched, and twirling his hair, as usual.

"What do you want, Near?" Matt sighed, not in the mood for pleasantries and letting his eye slide shut again. On a normal day, he would have probably been considerably more polite, personally he had nothing against Near, but on a normal day, he didn't have a dozen or so healing bullet holes about his person.

"Just to inform you that you are alive," Near told him, not phased by Matt's response or reaction.

"I sorta figured there out for myself," Matt mumbled in reply.

A shift of fabric came, and Matt envisaged the white-clad youth shrugging.

"I also came to tell you, that we have yet to locate Mello. But we are doing everything in our power to try and track him down. However, he's probably being difficult, and trying to avoid us. I believe he thinks you are dead, at the time of the shooting, he was watching the news from a truck. He caught the broadcast that informed the country you were dead, and then promptly crashed into a ruin of a church."

At the mention of Mello's name, Matt froze. And as Near continued to talk, his breathing slowed and his mind and heart raced, so much so that the crouching boy was peering at the medical readouts with an almost worried expression on his face.

"Do you even know if he's alive?" Matt forced out eventually, speaking through gritted teeth.

There was a pause.

"We're not entirely sure," Near admitted after a moment. "An analysis of the material from the blast indicates there was at least one body caught in it, but we haven't found anything remotely similar to what Mello would have had about his person, so it's incredibly likely he got out."

"There was a blast?" Matt asked. His eyes were still closed. Maybe if he kept them that way, it would turn out that this was all a dream.

Near frowned slightly, he had forgotten Matt knew little to nothing as to what went on, and hated being the bearer of bad news. People got emotional around bad news, and Near didn't like dealing with that.

"Yes, Takada was instructed to set fire to, and destroy, the lorry. She killed herself in the blaze. We believe she also attempted to write Mello's name down in the notebook before doing so, however we have yet to prove that. If we locate Mello, he may be able to shed some light on that particular situation."

If we locate Mello. Not when. Matt felt his insides stir, the nothingness in his stomach curdling and making him feel ill.

"I need a cigarette," he announced eventually.

"We are in a hospital," Near said, and Matt could only imagine the disapproving look upon his face. "It isn't allowed."

The redhead sighed, "how long will I be in here for?"

"A few more days, two at the least, four at the most," Near informed him. "A lot of progress in your healing process has been made whilst you were asleep. Two weeks, before you ask."

Matt nodded, not really surprised at the time that had passed, and mind to numb to ask anything else.

"I shall inform a doctor that you are awake," Near said, shuffling indicating he was rising from the chair. "And I shall send someone for you when you are discharged."

Scuffles across the floor, he never had been bothered to pick up his feet.

"We caught Kira, by the way," Near said as we reached the door. "It was Light, as we thought. He's dead."

Matt nodded once more, an action that he doubted Near even saw, and listened as the door swung shut.

Kira was gone. So their attempts had been worthwhile. But somehow Matt couldn't bring himself to feel happy about it. Not feeling as shit as he did. And not whilst Mello's whereabouts was still unknown. It was worse than when Mello had run off. At least then Matt had known he was alive, now he was clueless. Completely in the dark. And with the bright hospital lights turning the inside of his eyelids red, he realised he didn't like being in the dark all that much.

---

It turned out that Near was wrong. It was one of the very few times that the socially-inept boy was wrong. Matt was in for five more days. Being prodded and poked by a dark haired doctor that smiled far too much, and bandaged and washed by a grim grey haired nurse. Something he'd have rather done himself, as on the third day he found he could walk, albeit it slowly, with a limp, and tried to insist on doing everything himself.

This, of course, failed as he tired after a dozen or so steps, but after he rested, he persisted, determined to get his strength up as soon as possible so he could set off to find Mello. Well, he'd set off as soon as he had his strength back and his wounds were healed. It wouldn't do to find Mello and promptly die at his feet due to an infection.

"Someone's here for you," the grim nurse, who wasn't actually all that bad, announced on the fifth day. God knows which day of the week it was, Matt had lost track completely, but whatever day it was, it was a good day. He felt reasonably strong and energised, despite looking like death nuked in the microwave for a half hour. He even managed to walk all the way to the desk, barely limping, to sign himself out.

Only when he'd scrawled his name, or what could be his name, and possibly several others, on the sheet did he turn around to look at who was collecting him.

Near, looking thoroughly put out, and next to him, grinning like an idiot. Possibly a possessed idiot. Mello.

He wasn't sure who looked worse, himself or Mello. Paler than usual, with an almost green tinge to his skin, the blonde had bandages peeking up from his shirt collar from god knows what and a large graze on his cheekbone.

Matt didn't quite know what to do. Hug him, punch him or break down.

Instead, he tackled him.

Mello dropped like a stone, a wail of surprise mingling with perhaps a cry of pain as he crumpled to the floor, all of Matt's weight on top of him. The grin didn't leave his face though. Not even when Matt started punching him, fists swinging and abuse pouring from his lips.

Near watched on, curling a lock of hair round his finger.

Matt got to his feet, untangling himself from Mello's limbs, and then kicking the blonde in the stomach with all his strength. Which, admittedly, wasn't all that much, but Mello wasn't in full health either, so it was evenly matched. A third kick, a fourth, and Mello started laughing. Fucking laughing. Curled up on the floor, clutching his stomach, clad in all that god damn leather and laughing.

Matt didn't know whether to join in.

His foot slowed, more due to exhaustion than that his anger was satisfied, and he wondered why security hadn't come and grabbed his arms yet, until a quick glance round told him Near had held them off by raising one hand and shooting that authoritative look he could do so well.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Matt spat as he offered Mello a hand up.

Mello was still grinning when he nodded, "yeah."

"I thought you were fucking dead," Matt told him, still clasping Mello's hand, the other on his friends arm.

Mello nodded and grinned again, "yeah."

"Fuck I- what the fuck happened?"

"That Takada bitch spelt my name wrong. Two fucking vowels the wrong way round. Then I got caught in the blast," Mello told him. "Scorched my back, nice new burns to add to my collection."

"Always you and the fucking explosions," Matt muttered.

Mello grinned. And nodded. "Yeah."

"He showed up this morning," Near put in, watching the pair with mild amusement. "I thought it best to bring him along."

Holding the blond at arms length, Matt looked him up and down.

"Fuck, just, fucking come here." And he pulled him in and kissed him.

He could still feel the damn grin on his friends lips, fading as he didn't resist, but complied with the action. He thought he heard Near sigh somewhere in the background, but didn't really care. Caught up in the heat of the moment his hands found themselves elsewhere, one tangled in blonde hair and the other round a leather and bandage clad waist, pulling this skinny chocolate-addict tight to him, the hiss of pain lost in the redheads lips.

"If you don't mind," Near put in after a moment. "You're making quite a scene. People are staring, and I don't believe you need this much attention so soon."

As much as they hated to admit it, Near was right, and the couple separated. The grin that had seemed carved into Mello's face was now a soft smile as he looked down slightly at Matt.

"He's right," Mello told him. Somehow this sentence didn't register in Matt's brain. Mello, admitting Near was right? "We need to go, get out of here, you need to come home."

"Do we even have a home?" Matt asked, allowing himself to be led away.

"Of sorts," Mello mused. "We should find one. A proper one. Maybe even a normal one."

Matt laughed, "one step at a time, Mels."

Mello chuckled, and an arm shot out to snake around Matt's waist, something he would swear blind was to help Matt to walk if asked. But no one did. It felt weird, but nice, Matt decided. Something he could definitely get used to.