Fight

Mello POV Mello has involved Matt in the Kira Case, but he now regrets it. Now the objective isn't so much catching Kira as getting out alive.

That's how they would get me…through him. They knew I was emotional, so why didn't I just make things easy on myself and not involve him? I honestly don't know, but I already had. I couldn't change it now.

I needed to keep him a secret. If Rod found out it'd be the end of us both. If Near had his suspicions confirmed it would only be used against me. If Kira learned about it…I shudder at the thought. I didn't want anyone knowing, they'd use it against me. I didn't want anyone to know. He wasn't just some bitch I was fucking.

I needed to protect him, to keep him safe, but I also needed to stay with him. Otherwise we'd be both breaking down crying in some back alleyway, hunched over our own sorry forms with no motivation to move, rejected, second best, utterly alone, despair consuming us. We were on a team of our own; just me, and him, keeping each other from getting lost in this sea of chaos. I wanted him to go, but I couldn't let him…and he wouldn't let me.

That's why nobody could know, why I had to keep him a secret, my invaluable partner in crime. He would always be there, forever, until death do us part, and I felt horrible not acknowledging him.

He came with me once to a mob meeting, staying back in the shadows, quiet, watching as girls came around. I could tell it made him sick. He didn't like their attention. I didn't either, especially with him being there, but I played bored, keeping up appearances.

That night I made it up to him between the sheets; tender as always, loving, doing everything I could to say 'I'm so sorry...'. He would kiss me on the lips; hold me, both of us breathing in each other's presence. Taking it slow, for the world was moving too fast.

I loved him, the single thing in this world I would die for. I didn't deny it, even though no one asked me. But I was the vicious, arrogant, mob boss; you didn't ask things like that.

We kept up appearances except in places where no one knew us. There I could gently stroke his face, his neck, his shoulder, his hand, a public display of affection. Some people gave us weird looks, but it wouldn't get us shot. Telling each other we'd be together soon, even if we couldn't be right now. We'd live to see tomorrow. We'd stop the other from breaking down and cutting themselves in the sink, from shooting up heroin and numbing it all. We needed to be the other's release. We were the reason we were still alive.

One night I bought us a little black velvet box with two rings inside: plain silver with a single ruby. It was us.

He looked at the box, smiling as I knelt down to slip it on his finger. "Don't leave me," I whispered, kissing his hand.

"Don't worry," He slipped the remaining ring on my finger and kissed it, "I won't."

I knew they would use him to get to me. If not Kira, then Near or the mafia. They wanted to get us, so we had to fight it.

I looked up at his soft green eyes glowing with warmth, drawing me in, making my consciousness flicker. I got up from my spot on the floor, joining him on the couch, burying my face in his hair, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, feeling his presence. He closed his eyes, leaning into my heartbeat.

Calm, perfect, this is what I wanted, but I had to fight to get there. Take down all those motherfuckers in my way and beat them. For him and for us, that was the only way we were getting out of this.