A/N: I AM BACK! Wooooooo! Okay, so this is my new, long-awaited multi-chaptered fic, and let me tell you: I'm working my butt off with this. It's not even finished yet, but I have... *counts* ...two chapters and an epilogue left to write, so I figured I could post it now. Also, I'm having a bit of trouble actually working up the effort to write this thing, so I thought posting it and (hopefully) getting reviews would help motivate me.

So, yeah, Rainbow Fruit Loop, this one's for you. Sorry you had to wait so long, but I'm still posting it earlier than expected, right? XP

Right, now I have a few things to inform ya'll about. I have a whole list of them, but I can't tell you them all yet, because that's spoilers. Hopefully I'll remember later on. XD

Okay:

1) This fic is my first fic with an ACTUAL PLOT! Ikr, shock, horror...but yeah. It is, and though I have worked very hard on it, it's inevitably going to be full of plotholes and crapness, so don't expect anything incredible. But give me a chance anyway...?

2) This is an AU, set in modern England. The city is fictional, but think a slightly smaller, seedier version of London, and you've pretty much got the idea.

3) The characters I use in this fic from Death Note are going to be slightly less weird than they were in the manga/anime. Don't get me wrong, they'll still be plenty odd, but I'm toning down their various addictions and/or obsessions partly because it's AU, and partly because I really can't be bothered to keep writing about video games and chocolate. I'm not especially enamoured with either, so yeah.

4) Though they are admittedly less weird, the characters are going to be pretty messed up. I added character complications and whatnot whenever I felt like it, so be ready for a lot of that. :)

5) This is YAOI! If you don't like that, or are homophobic, or are here purely to flame because of the pairing, then please leave, for your own happiness and peace of mind. I think that's all. XD Oh no, wait...

6) I know nothing about the legal system, or medicine, or psychology, or whatever complicated things may come up. Therefore, I'm pretty much making everything up, and if I get it wrong, I'm very sorry, but I am still in high school and have no idea about the outside world. Please don't kill me if I write something really stupid.

Okay, that really is it! Sigh...my fingers are tired now. =_= Okie-dokie, this'll probably be updated every Saturday, but I haven't done this for a while, so I might forget. Also, please take into account time zone differences. I may update at two in the morning on Sunday for you, but it might be six on Saturday evening for me. So don't nag me if it's half past midnight on...Saturday? Sunday?...and I haven't updated yet. :)

I talked loads... O_O Sorry, it won't always be like this. I just had a lot to say. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters. All credit goes to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata, except for the plot and OCs and stuff.

Chapter 1: Stereotypes

With a final click of a button, Matt activated the destructive virus that would demolish the entire system of the company he'd been paid to annihilate.

Sitting back in his chair and cracking his knuckles, he congratulated himself on a job well done. The virus would likely be on the news next morning, and his payment would be delivered long before.

Hacking, or cracking, depending on what his various employers wanted, was Matt's hobby, as well as his job. He viewed the complex security systems he was put up against as challenges, something to pass the time. Why not earn some money while he was at it? He'd started breaking into computers at twelve, and got his first paid job at fourteen. Now, he was eighteen, very nearly nineteen, and still cracking was his main (only) source of income.

As job offers were few and far between, albeit well-paid, Matt didn't exactly live in the lap of luxury. His crummy apartment had four rooms: kitchen, bathroom, bedroom and his 'Tech Lair', as he called it. It was the latter which he was in now, deciding what to spend his soon-to-be acquired cash on.

He already had all the technology he needed to break into the most secure systems in the world, he had more gaming systems than he could be bothered to count, and even more games. The TV sort-of worked, but Matt didn't watch it much anyway. He had food and clothes. What else was there to spend it on? Apart from the rent, which Matt avoided 'til the very last minute anyway.

Pushing his orange-lensed goggle up and away from his eyes, Matt huffed vertically, ruffling his fringe. Having excess money was not something he was used to, and to be frank, he didn't really like it, strange guy that he was. Life just wasn't any fun without having to scavenge for everything.

Although, Matt supposed he shouldn't get ahead of himself. He hadn't actually got the cash yet, and though he assumed he would, anything could happen in the quarter of an hour it took for him to pick up his money.

Matt's residence was kept a secret from everyone, for obvious reasons, but he knew that most would be surprised at the proximity of his flat and his allotted meeting spot for payments. It was the best disguise: hiding in plain view.

Sighing, Matt stood, stretched his tired muscles, and readjusted his goggles to hide his eyes. It was best to keep as anonymous as possible, and anyhow, wearing them was so much of a habit he sometimes caught himself believing the world was naturally dyed various shades of orange.

Grabbing a nondescript bag from the corner, Matt strolled out into the street, making sure to lock the door behind him. He wasn't in a respectable area, to say the least. Hunching his shoulders to keep warm, Matt buried his nose in the fluffy lining of his jacket. Winter was setting in with a vengeance; he'd have to start shelling out for heating soon.

Sniffing irritably and cursing the cold virus, Matt strode hastily to the assigned corner where he was to get his hands on his earnings.

As expected, there was a leery-looking bloke in shades leaning against the wall.

Humming the Men in Black theme tune in his head, Matt sauntered along to meet him.

The man glanced up. "You the hacker?" he asked.

"Yup." Matt wasn't a man of many words.

"Here," the Man in Black shoved a sizeable envelope into Matt's gloved hands.

Not taking any chances, Matt opened it up and started counting.

"It's all there," the man assured him, looking annoyed, but not surprised.

The man was telling the truth, Matt discovered, and he put the bundles of notes away again. "Cheers," he said, turning away while stuffing the envelope into his bag and setting off down the street again. Keeping it brief was the key to successful criminality.

Matt turned down a road he didn't normally venture into. He didn't want anyone following him and finding out where he lived. He had heard the thug turn and head off in the opposite direction, but one couldn't be too careful.

It had been a mere forty seconds before Matt decided going down this particular road had been a mistake. It was derelict (even more so than the rest of the suburb), and there was a frightening amount of smashed glass, graffiti and puddles of dubious liquids.

Carefully weaving around such a puddle, Matt shoved his hands in his pockets, where he kept his flick-knife, and kept his head even lower than normal. This was gang territory, he could smell it. And no one trespassed on gang territory unless they were either retarded or possessing of a death wish. Matt wasn't in the suicidal category.

Suddenly, a door opened to the building Matt was walking by. Cursing his god-awful luck, Matt wheeled around to face whatever murderer was trying to kill him, fumbling with his knife. True to character, he dropped it.

Before he could swear and make up a way to wheedle himself out of this one, Matt was surprised to see a body being shoved out of the doorway. The person staggered backwards, tripped over a step and tumbled down into the street. Matt reached out to catch them by instinct...

And into his arms fell the most beautiful angel he'd ever seen.

A black, fur-trimmed hood had fallen away to reveal flaxen hair and ice-blue eyes, the huge burn on the face doing nothing to disguise the sheer beauty of the creature Matt was holding.

The door slammed shut.

So captivated was he by the celestial being, Matt didn't notice the blood soaking through his own shirt from the gunshot wound in the angel's shoulder. The creature brought it to his attention though, by groaning and clutching at the injury. Matt gasped as he finally saw the wound, and the sprite went limp in his arms.

Matt was still for a few seconds before his brain finally started working again, right after his lungs. He hurriedly checked for vital signs, and, finding them, sighed with relief and applied pressure to the bullet wound. He then deliberated on what to do next.

If he left this person here, they would die.

If he drove them to hospital, there would be questions that his legality (or lack of) really wouldn't be able to stand.

And if he tried to treat the injury himself, he couldn't guarantee the person's survival.

Coming to a conclusion and realising he'd never really had a choice in the matter, Matt heaved a deep breath and gathered the unconscious being in his arms. He then set off for his apartment by the quickest route there was, possible stalkers be damned.

Angels were really damn heavy.

Matt stumbled down the dark alleyways, breathing heavily with exertion. It was seven pm, and, as a result of the season, already pitch black. He could feel the gentle expansion and contraction of the angel's chest from where it was clutched against Matt's own, and he took comfort in the fact that it was still alive.

Reaching his front door at last, Matt encountered a dilemma. The door was locked, and the key was in his back pocket, which made it unattainable with his current load.

Swearing colourfully, Matt shifted the body so it was lying over his shoulder and fished around for his keys. Finding them, he unlocked the door and rushed inside, kicking it shut behind him.

He set the person gently down on his bed, making a mental note to buy clean sheets when he was done. He then ran into the bathroom to look for antiseptic and bandages.

After gathering the necessary equipment, he hurried back and began to carefully remove the upper layers of clothing from the person. Successfully removing the jacket, Matt eyed the leather vest underneath with trepidation. He really had no idea whether his patient was male or female; the hair and features screamed female, but the lack of figure begged to differ.

Matt shrugged. Either way, he couldn't let this person bleed to death just because he was shy. Unzipping the vest, he noted with brief surprise that they were, in fact, male and the bullet wound wasn't actually so bad. It had only nicked the shoulder, leaving a nasty, but not life-threatening gash.

Feeling relieved that he wouldn't need to sew anything, Matt cleaned the wound thoroughly and bandaged it up tightly, hopefully stopping excess blood flow. He then gazed at the soiled sheets in speculation, before shrugging and slipping a towel underneath the stranger so he wouldn't wake up in a pool of his own blood. Even Matt was sensitive enough to know that would probably be distressing.

He cleaned the man's torso as best he could, forgoing his back, as he didn't want to move the injured person's shoulder more than absolutely necessary. He then covered his unexpected guest with a duvet and left the room to find some well-earned coffee.

Now all that was left to do was to wait for this beautiful stranger to wake up.

A/N: Ehehe...so what did you think? I'd really like to hear your opinions, so please review! See you next Saturday! (hopefully)