A.N: Jaunt, I believe you owe me a chapter^.^ Mwuahahahaha I DID IT!

Now if only I can get inspired to write the next chapter for SGK…

A few days after Matt had fallen in through the door covered in blood, I received a call from Rod, saying that my men had dragged in four guys for me.

I really loved the mafia.

I got up immediately, getting dressed in my now trademark black leather, and smiling at the blood red and sleek black beads of my new rosary. I slid my favorite gun, a Beretta 92FS, in to my pant, and grabbed a few other weapons too.

I did say I would make them pay.

And I never go back on my word.

Well….. At least not when I'm talking to Matt.

Speaking of Matt, he would need to come too. I walked over to the bed, eating a bar of chocolate, before gently poking the lump that was my little red haired gamer buried under the blankets.

"Wha…? I 'don wanna get up…." He groaned, half asleep. I sighed.

"Matt, come on, get up. We have to go to headquarters."

"Go away…" he sounded almost like a little kid. I sighed again, and leaned in as close as I could to where I thought his head was and whispered "You have five seconds to get up, or your X-box gets it."

He shot up immediately, the blankets flying off the bed, yelling "I'm up, just don't hurt her!"

I laughed. His red hair was sticking up in a few places, and he was only in a pair of boxers.

I stopped when I saw the bandages and remembered why I had just gotten him up.

"Come on and get dressed, we have to get going." I said quietly, helping him up. He was still shaky when he walked, most likely from blood loss. I knew most of the wounds still hurt.

"Alright, give me a few minutes, jeeze." He smiled weakly, walking to our closet and grabbing a pair of jeans and a striped shirt.

As always.

He somehow managed to get in to his jeans without much of a problem, which I thought was very impressive, considering his injuries and how tight the jeans were.

Man they looked good. I mean look at that as- Focus Mello.

Focus.

His shirt was another issue. Any large movement of his shoulder or chest area hurt like hell, and could possibly tear the scars and stitches.

Which would suck.

I walked over and tried to help, but I didn't want to hurt him worse.

After five tries, three different positions and very well worked out equations, and a few hundred "Shit Mel!"s , we got the damn shirt on without damaging him.

A lot.

He also insisted on wearing his vest, which I should have thought of since it is the middle of December, so he grabbed that on the way out and pulled it on. I got my jacket too.

Hey, it's fucking cold out there.

The drive to headquarters felt like it lasted forever, neither of us really talked. No one was out on the roads, or even walking by, which I thought was a bit odd considering that this was, after all, L.A.

I soon realized that it wasn't that odd, now considering exactly how insane you would have to be to go out in this weather.

"Mello, are we there yet?" Matt asked tiredly from the seat beside me.

It was almost funny, seeing as we had just pulled up to the back entrance.

"Really Matt? Really?" I sighed, slipping out of the car. He smiled widely, and slid out too, nearly falling a few times.

I gripped his arm tightly when he walked around to meet me by the door, and carefully pulled him in. I didn't want him to fall. And plus, while I knew all of my men wouldn't dare touch him after the few hundred very graphic threats I had given to each of them personally, should something happen to him on their accords, I couldn't say that some of the other men wouldn't hurt him.

This is the mafia after all.

This is My Matty we're talking about.

A few of the men walking by us gave him a couple of odd glances, but quickly averted their eyes and fled at once under my glare. And though he knew all of the men in this base wouldn't touch him while he was with me, I felt him cling to me closer than usual, and grip my hand tightly.

I pretended not to notice that he was shaking slightly.

I lead him in to the main room, as we called it, where I saw Rod lounging on the couch with two girls on either side, draping themselves all over him. It was disgusting. The room reeked of smoke, sex, alcohol, and chocolate.

The chocolate was because of me.

Beside him were about five of my men, surrounding a group of four men kneeling on the floor with their wrists and ankles bound in old, rusty, bloody chains. I felt Matt grip my arm even tighter, and avert his eyes.

The four men were rather beat up, with bruises lacing their faces and all other exposed skin I could see, along with a few gun wounds each. Most of the wounds looked a few days old.

Score one for Matty.

I gestured for my men to leave us, and they did so quickly, smirking. Rod sat up a bit in his chair to survey whatever was about to begin. "They're all yours, Mello." He grinned, his eyes glinting.

Damn psychopathic bastard.

Oh well.

I pulled away slightly from Matt, and looked down at his quivering form. "Are these the bastards who attacked you?" I asked quietly.

He nodded.

I kissed his cheek before walking over to the first man, and pulled my gun out, pointing it straight under his throat. He gulped, his eyes wide.

"You see that boy over there? His name is Matt. You tried to kill him four days ago. Correct?" I sneered, glaring harshly, and pressing the cold barrel harshly against his jugular.

"I- we- well- uh, it w-was just business you see? W-we needed the job done and c-come on, we wouldn't want to pay for that s-shit man? It's e-expensive and w-we thought it would be easy to just kill hi-" I pulled the trigger. He keeled over instantly, blood gushing from the hole in his head.

"Who's next?"

Slowly I killed the rest of the men, their deaths much slower and much more painful than the first. Matt watched the whole time. I could almost feel his eyes burning in to my back from where he sat a few feet behind me.

I put my gun away, and threw my pocket knife, lighter, and metal chain on to the couch. They would be picked up later. I helped Matt up from his spot and gently lead him back out of the building and back to my car. No one looked at us as we left. They were too scared.

He was still shaking a bit, but I could tell it was better now. He slid in, and I started the car and sped out, wanting nothing more than to get home fast. The drive before had been to slow.

"Mells?" I heard him ask quietly, grabbing my hand again.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." He smiled, though I could tell he was still mentally flipping out.

"No problem." I smiled too, glancing at him.

"Oh, and Mells?" He looked up, and I swallowed hard, not sure what he was going to ask.

"Yeah….?"

"You've either spent way too much time watching me play video games, or talking to BB." And with that he closed his eyes, and fell asleep, leaning on my shoulder.

I laughed softly, grinning at his sleeping form.

"I'll always watch over you." I whispered, knowing that hadn't been what he meant.

But it was true, none-the-less.

As was me watching him play video games to much, though the attack back there had been out of my own blood lust to kill those bastards.

I mean really.

Beyond was fucking scary.