Fuckin' AC/DC stuck in my head. YES. DIRTY DEEDS ARE DONE CHEAP, DAMMIT.

Characters © Ohba and Obata

And some Matt/Mello fluff thrown in there for good measure.

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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I was going…I would…This…this isn't happening.

"How?! How did we miss Russia?!" I said, rather loudly but not screaming so much. The Asian man frowned.

"Well, I guess you two just overslept. Nobody took those seats, I suppose."

"You don't understand. This is kind of a huge deal to me. Like, supernova huge." He sighed.

"I don't know what I can do. We'll be landing in about five minutes or so in the northern part of Greece." Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Crap. Damn. Hell. I really, really, really want to just keel over and die like some old fart.

I collapsed into my chair. Mello hadn't said anything, just a bit shocked that we would probably have to walk through three countries just to get to goddamned Russia. I didn't have a map, and I always sucked at Geography, so I had no idea if that was right or not.

After we had gotten off the plane, my legs literally felt like jelly. Mello was behind me, pretty much going to catch me if I suddenly fainted or something. Which I probably was going to.

Oh yes. Then I realized we couldn't get our luggage because it was in our actual destination. Fuck on a stick.

I went to the nearest chair and sat. I just sat. I felt pretty broken inside. Like a fuckin' shell. I know it sounds angsty and emo, but damn. It was just the worst feeling ever. Mello gave me a friendly hug. The kind of hug that a chick would give to cheer her friend up. Comforting, I guess.

Though it felt really weird when he just…um…slightly pressed his lips to the top of my head. Slightly. Please produce the greatest 'D-colon' face in the world.

Yeah, but weirder was I didn't push him off or anything. Yes. Project Runway has made me gay. Damn Christian and his fierceness.

"Look Matt. We WILL find your parents. I'm going to get you there, 'kay? Even if we have to walk." It felt oddly comforting that he'd actually gave a damn about my well-being. But I shouldn't be surprised. He is my best friend, after all.

"What about your damn chocolate? You get all pissy about it when you don't have it." Mello smirked.

"I stashed some in your backpack when you weren't looking." Of course…

"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do? We're in f'in Greece, man."

"How much money we got?"

"Enough. But not enough to buy two more plane tickets. Shit dude, this sucks. This sucks like a hermaphrodite fucker." I said, not really knowing where in the hell that came from. The depths of hell, probably.

"…well…I have an idea."

-

Do not ever trust Mello's ideas. Never. Again.

Ever.

Here I am, running for a damn train. Well, not a train per se. Like a train that delivers packages and stuff. I can't remember the exact name for it, so just go with it, alright? Alright.

Mello had already gotten on it, and I was going as fast as my damn legs could go. He reached his hand, and I finally managed to grasp onto it. He pulled me up into the train, and I sat down, dangling my feet over the edge.

"Well. This is…exciting. How exactly did we do this again?"

Apparently, Mello had a 'mental breakdown'. And he wasn't faking it. Really. He claimed that the ticket-taker was the Loch Ness Monster, because they asked for tree-fitty. He went batshit insane uhgain. The ticket-taker went insane, went over to a nearby phone, and started calling 911. I just grabbed his wrist and ran like a bat outta hell.

And here we were. Sitting on a baggage cart. Is that what they're called? I can't remember.

"Well. This day has been epic. Unnecessarily epic. Disgruntling. Actually, this day has sucked. Badly." I leaned back. The cart was really, really dusty. Painted red, but it was chipping.

"At least we're both alive. Gimme some chocolate." I sighed, reaching into my backpack and pulling out a Ghirardelli.

"How long will this take us?" He shrugged.

"Hell if I know. Hey, it's getting dark." I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"You're my person."

"Gay." He said, prompting me to roll my eyes. Friggin' Grey's. It's not even that good a show. Frickin' Linda…

"Ha. Funny. You're hilarious." We fell asleep. On each other. Again.

I don't think he noticed that I was holding his hand.

-

After a while, we finally woke up, and we just saw the station which it was puling up at. We hopped off, grabbing our bags and heading off. I saw a man, with a scruffy beard, and asked him where we were. He spoke broken English.

"Excuse me sir, where are we."

"You…are in…Romania…" Well, at least we were getting closer. Ish. I don't know. I just want to get to Russia so bad. But it was weird. We slept through an entire trip through Bulgaria? Weird.

But questioning logic was un-Christian.

"How far do you think it is to Russia?"

"Many miles. Many, many miles. Can't be exact." I grimaced. That was not a good sign.

"Oh cheer up, will ya? We'll get there." He smiled cheerfully. Ish. As cheerful as Mello could get, I guess.

Happy Mello is not a good sign. The apocalypse must be coming.

"Mello, are you good at Geography? I always sucked at it. I passed it because the teacher liked me for some oddly explainable reason."

"Romania to Russia…Uh, if we go through Moldova and Ukraine we could get there." I thought for a moment.

"Better than walking from Greece, I guess. Come on. We've got a ways to go." Mello scowled.

"Idiot, how exactly are we going to get there? Walking, yes, but directions? Besides, I don't know Ukrainian! I can't ask people." I blinked, forgetting about that important detail.

"Well shit. We need, like, a map or something. We're probably in the bottom to middle part of Romania, so if we keep going north, we've gotta find something."

"Well that's a bright idea, but we don't know if we're heading to Moldova or Bulgaria or Hungary."

"Mello, we came from Bulgaria, which means we came from," I pointed south, "that way. And if we came from the south, then Hungary is that way," I pointed west, "and Moldova is north. So just keep heading north, dammit."

"So we have to go through Moldova and Ukraine, huh?"

Three countries. We had to go through three countries. Not by plane or train. But walking.

Walking.

…fuck.

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I hated this chapter. I REALLY did. I had to make it short because the amount of suckage was burning my retinas.

So R&R if you still love me. Slash pity me.