A/N: For a while now I've been wanting to go into a writing competition with someone. And, well… FragilePuzzle just so happened to be the one to get into it with me. So, we decided to write a one-shot based on the song 'The Red' by Chevelle. The rules were: There was no word limit, and it had to be MelloxNear. So…this is what I produced. Please read the bottom A/N for the instructions on how to vote for which story you preferred! Thanks to I-Am-Justice for helping with ideas!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters in this story. And, for this fic, I do not own the song The Red, by Chevelle, either.

Title: Anger Management

Mello's P.O.V.

The room was as awkward as I could ever imagine that it could be. All 15 of us were sitting in a perfect circle in a sort-of silence that made me just want to scream –just to break it.

As I looked around at all of them, I couldn't believe that I was actually here. That I'd been forced to be here! I didn't deserve to be here.

Anger management… what a joke.

I didn't belong here with these people. They were crazy, not me!

I looked around at all the other people that were being forced here as well as we waited for the instructor to come in. Why they thought it was a good idea to leave people like us alone in here was beyond me.

There was a guy sitting in front of me who, ironically, was in a tie dye shirt yet was twitching and shifting around in his seat like he had Tourettes or something. I started thinking that maybe he was in the wrong room or something.

To the left there were two people –one guy and one girl- engaging in quiet conversation. Well… correction, she was talking to him. He sat there staring straight ahead and never said a single word to her.

The girl, on the other hand, you would think she was having the best conversation in the world. Talking and laughing like she was actually interested in whatever the topic was.

But I could see what she was doing as clear as I could see the sleeve tattoo going up her right arm. She was just playing a game with him.

Oh God, how I'd seen that so many times before. With him.

She wanted to get him interested, and to think he was going to score tonight. Then she'd drop him like a rock. She just wanted to feel superior to guys. Any guy. I was beginning to think that maybe someone had done her wrong, to make her this way.

Before I could continue analyzing the people, the door to the room opened and the instructor entered. He was a middle aged man with no real physical qualities that stood out. Except his grand smile that mirrored that of someone who'd just won the Nobel peace prize. He had a nametag on that simply read 'Doc' on it. The moment I read it I knew I would probably never call him that.

He took a seat in one of the empty chairs practically parallel to where I was sitting, and held a clipboard full of papers in his lap. I could only hope that those papers were unlined and that he'd brought them so he could draw while people talked. That's what therapists did, anyway.

His dark brown eyes looked up through his glasses around the room at everyone and his smile grew, if at all possible. I knew I wasn't going to like him… not at all.

"Good morning everyone," He started, "As most of you know, my name is Dr. Evans, but you may call me Doc." He looked around at everyone, and I could see in his eyes that he was analyzing everyone. I wondered what he saw in me.

Everyone greeted him with a simultaneous 'good morning,' that sounded like it'd been rehearsed before his entry. It made me wonder how many of these people saw this guy regularly. In that moment I made a clear note to myself to not become one of those people.

"Alright, well, why don't we begin with simple introductions, then. We'll go around the room and say our names and what brought us here." He said, looking around once more before looking down at his clipboard.

No one said anything against it, and just like that, people started introducing themselves one by one.

The array of things that people had done to wind up here was interesting, to me. Some of them were here for getting into fights, some for yelling and screaming. Some would only say that they were ordered here by the police.

Finally, it came down to me. What was I going to say? How could I sum up what had happened between Near and I into one simple sentence that would make everyone understand? I realized then, that there was no way to do such a thing –that they would just have to be there and experience it all like I did to get a good idea of it.

Nonetheless, I crossed my arms and said easily, "My name is Mello."

The doctor and almost everyone looked at me. If it'd been Near here, he'd be squirming under all the stares. But it didn't faze me at all, since I always did like being the center of attention.

"And what brought you here with us today, Mello?" He asked me.

I took a deep breath and said just as calmly, "I was provoked." That was all they needed to know. No matter how vague that was, it was the easiest way to get my point across.

Even so, the doctor gave me a confused look. "Provoked?" He asked, then looked around at everyone else. "Well, everyone seems to have given their introduction, we can move on to the individual analysis, now. Mello, why don't we start with you." He said, and my eyes narrowed on him. "What do you mean by 'provoked'? Who provoked you?"

Now what did I say? What was the answer? It all came down to the realization that none of them could understand completely, because they weren't there. It all seemed like it was my fault. Always my fault. But that was because they weren't there, and they didn't know.

I sighed, "I was provoked, by this kid. He knew what would happen if he said anything, but he did it anyway… so…" I trailed off. I didn't like to think about it, for one reason or another.

I watched as he shuffled through some papers before saying, "This 'Near', right? It says you beat him up." I glared, where the hell had he gotten that information from? Probably Roger…

"Yeah, Near." I said simply.

"So why did you beat him up?" He asked, those dark eyes looking up at me. They were black, almost like his. I suddenly got the feeling that I was being undermined, and analyzed by him again. It pissed me off, but I tried to hold it back.

"I just told you, he broke our promise and I couldn't stand for that!" I felt like this was more of an interrogation, than anything.

"What promise, Mello?" It was surprising that he was just pushing me along, instead of trying to calm me down again. He had no idea what would happen if I exploded here and now.

I sighed, trying to calm myself down again. "None of your damn business."

The doctor wasn't fazed, and instead looked through his papers again. "It says here you two were engaging in a relationship." From the side of the room I heard 'fag' and I contemplated throwing my chair at him. The only thing that held me back was the thought that such an action might wind me up here again.

"That's right." I said, "We've been together for a few months. I told him that it would only work so long as no one else knew about it."

"Why?" He asked, dark eyes flicking up to me again.

"Because!" I said, my tone louder, "I can't have people knowing that I'm in love with my own rival!" I continued again before he got the chance to ask me why he was my rival. That'd be too hard to lie about, considering I knew I couldn't tell them the truth about Wammy's. "So I told him not to tell anyone about us. And that worked for a while. Then I found out he'd told that bitch Linda. So… I beat him up." [1]

"Don't you think that's a little… unfair, Mello? To control someone like that?"

"No. He controls people all the time. I don't have any problem with it." I said, looking away.

"Well… did you ever think that… maybe the reason he told someone was not to get any sort of reaction out of you, but instead so that people could know?" He asked, and that made me stop. So people could know? "Maybe this Near person didn't like having a relationship with you in secret, or liked you so much that he wanted someone else to know."

I couldn't fathom the thought of Near thinking such a thing. But… if he did… "He doesn't care enough about anyone to ever do such a thing. Besides, he never acts with his emotions." I said, feeling like I was more just trying to argue back, rather than because I believed it.

"Maybe he never did before, but now he does." The doctor concluded, and I felt a wave of numbness consume my entire being. I'd never once heard Near tell me that he loved me, even though I'd told him that countless times before. He never said it… only showed it, and I'd come to expect such a thing.

What this guy was saying, though. Maybe… it did make sense. Maybe Near didn't understand what he was feeling, and was just… trying to figure it out without my knowing.

I suddenly felt bad, and wondered why I hadn't seen that before. I remembered back to the moment that I'd been beating Near up. He'd been shouting something… something about how he hadn't meant to hurt me. I thought he'd been lying.

But I understood, now.

My eyes had drifted down to the floor, and I could feel everyone still watching me in that tense silence. I let my gaze rise again to the doctor. "So… tell me how to fix myself, then." I said, putting on my attitude towards him once again.

The doctor adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose before looking down at the paper again for a minute, then looking up at me. "You need more communication with him. Even if it's hard, you need a better understanding of him. That way, you can ration out his actions better and aren't so quick to jump to a conclusion."

That made sense, I guess. I could talk to him, get him to tell me what he's thinking. Maybe then… I'd be able to help, or in the least understand him better.

It took till about now to realize that I'd been living in the same orphanage with Near for years, but I didn't really have a good hold over him –why he did things, what'd happened to him before. The only thing I'd ever known for certain was his need to be the best.

But that couldn't be all of him, right?

I didn't say anything more to him, and, as if understanding that I'd taken his words into consideration, the doctor moved on to address someone else –doing the same thing to them that he'd done to me.

But I wasn't listening anymore. My mind was revolving all around Near, and what would happen from here on out. What could be changed? What could we accomplish? What were all the possibilities. It all seemed endless, with him.

-

When the doctor called the end of the meeting, he said his goodbyes with that sick smile on his face once more, and then left the room. Only then were we permitted to get up and leave.

I got up from my seat, feeling like my legs had weights tied to them. Nervousness consumed my entire being and I didn't know what to do about. Maybe that doctor had left too soon.

I followed the line of people out of the meeting room and down into the lobby room, where people sat waiting for either the next meeting, or a meeting with some other kind of doctor.

My eyes scanned the room quickly, until I finally found him, sitting in a chair by the window, his eyes looking out and the lack of expression on his face and eyes that told me his mind was somewhere else. That's right… Near had been the one who insisted on coming too. I guess to see the immediate results or something.

I walked over to him, and he looked over at me, then standing up. "How did it go?" He asked, in that normal monotone voice that I hadn't realized I'd missed. Under those white pajamas I knew there were bruises that I'd caused, and he even had one on his cheek –destroying the perfect look he always had.

But it didn't faze me. I stepped closer to him and hugged him tight, trying to get him to understand without having to use any words. After all, I still had my pride to hold.

My eyes closed as my head rested on his, but I felt his own dark orbs looking up at me. "I guess it went quite well?" He assumed, in more of a questioning tone.

I gave a small grin, "Shut up, Near." He was destroying my moment.

It was then that I decided it. Maybe things wouldn't change between us, and maybe this relationship would go down in flames eventually. But that didn't matter right now, because we still had a chance. Hell, we had all the chances in the world.

And so long as we had those chances, I knew I'd be willing to take them. Because, even if he didn't say it, and even if he never told me he loved me, so long as he didn't push me away, I'd know he cared.

… I never thought I'd learn something like that from that damn anger management class.

The End

A/N: Yay! I finished it! I never thought I'd be doing a story like this, and quite honestly, it was pretty damn hard. Guess that's why it's a challenge. Anyway, the other story in this competition is by FragilePuzzle and is called The Red. So, go and read that one too, if you haven't already. Then, once you finish, go to her profile and there'll be a poll there asking which you like better: hers, or mine. Please vote and let us know!! Oh, and please review this and let me know how I did! Thanks!

1: I know what people are probably going to say 'that idea was used before'! And I know it was, that's where I got the idea. It just worked really well with this… the only problem is that I couldn't think of what the story was called, or who the author was, so I was unable to go ask first. So… to everyone who hates me for doing that, and to the author if you're reading: You had a great idea with that, and I'm sorry for stealing. All the credit goes to you!

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-Forbiddensoul562