A/N: I don't know if this'll be every other chapter is Matt and Mello, but this is Matt's POV. I don't think that's what'll happen. I said I was going to get an estimate on how many chapters, and I think it's going to be at least 15 chapters. Thinking it out, I can't make it under that. It may (probably will be) over that, but that's just a general amount.

Special thanks to zummi16 (gahh, your pic's Tamaki! I just finished watching Ouran High School Host Club, loved it!), MalfoysBtch22, RhetoricalJeevas (I love your picture!), monochrome1994 for your reviews. Thanks to those who alerted and favorite too (ClOuDs-N-rAiNbOwS, RhetoricalJeevas, MalfoysBtch22, zummi16, and XxCatalinaxX). Onto the show!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

Chapter 2: Matt

The excessive beeping in this place can get on so many people's nerves. Well, I'd have to figure, because the nurses and doctors seemed immune to it, and I never talked to any of the other patients; the hospital's shut-in, that's me. Though I don't know if I could be considered a shut-in; I spent most of my time wandering the halls and hanging out in the emergency room. That was the only place that was lively, and doesn't attempt to steal your life force (though that might not seem like it to the patients and their families). Call me morbid, but just sitting there watching families come and go had become somewhat of a hobby of mine. But hey, when you're stuck here day after day, what else am I supposed to do? They already took away my games; all the television was too bad for me in my current condition, and by the end of the days anyways, walking was becoming a struggle. No way in hell was I going to let my high scores and gaming suffer from my incapability

Well, it was another one of those days (my people watching- I refused to say stalking because I was not stalking them- was getting boring, and it was almost time for me to head back to my room; they get pissy if you spend too much time away, it makes them "worry") when He came in.

I had turned around to leave, but when I heard the sirens coming, I paused. It's not like it was uncommon to hear sirens at a hospital, duh. What was uncommon about it was the fact that they were coming to this hospital.

Er, let me elaborate. After spending so much time at this place, you begin to notice patterns in new arrivals at the emergency room. Most of the people who got into accidents were brought here Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursday s, Fridays, and Sundays. The accidents occurred usually at noon or rush-time, and seeing how it was both a Tuesday and 2:14 in the afternoon, neither fit the specifics. I walked back to the waiting room, hoping to catch a glimpse at what had happened.

The nurses were panicking. Nobody else was in the waiting room, luckily, and they really didn't give a crap about me. I guess what happened freaked them out a lot. I was right to guess that.

A couple of doctors rushed outside, probably to bring the patient in and to assess what happened. I could hear the yells and the faint "holy shit"s, and I started to wonder if I really needed to see this. I might be a guy, but I wasn't all that fond of excessive amounts of blood, especially if it's not my own. As I was about to turn back and head to my room, they came into the emergency room. I froze.

Blood. The first thing that hit me was the smell; there was so much of it, the stench filling the huge room. I covered my nose with the striped sleeve of my shirt. Blood was on the paramedics, the doctors; blood dripped to the floor. But what I noticed the most was the source of it all. Him.

Even though he was covered in that scarlet elixir, all bruised and battered, he was beautiful. Blonde hair was matted and caked with blood (A/N: If I have to type that word one more time…I swear…), which dripped from his forehead and his chest. He appeared to be asleep, and from my distance, I couldn't tell if he was breathing. Oh god, don't make him be dead.

As quickly as he came, he was whisked away, and the blood that covered the ground was cleaned. The only sign that it had really just happened was the lingering smell of blood and bleach.

I stayed in my room that night. Didn't eat, couldn't sleep. I missed my therapy appointment. When the nurses came into my room to yell at me, they found me staring out the window and looking down at the courtyard, a small diary clutched in my hand.

"Ma-att," one of the nurses said, her voice breaking halfway through. Her name was Naomi Misora, and we had bonded the first time I had come here, four years ago. She was the one who kicked me out of my shock and depression when I had first learned the news, the one who had stayed by me when I was puking my guts out. She knew what to say, when to say it, and when not to speak at all. She was the only friend I had now.

"Misa," she said, "you can go now." She dismissed the other girl, and Misa nodded her blonde head sadly.

"Matt," Naomi tried again. She came up to me and reached her hand out. I turned away.

I heard her gasp softly, like she was burned. I watched her reflection in the window pane as she pulled her hand back slowly.

"How long?" I asked, though I knew the answer, right down to the damn second.

"Matt, don't do this to yourself." Naomi was whispering. "You heard what the doctor said; don't beat yourself up. Live what you got, love what you got." She sounded so heartbroken.

"How long?" I repeated, not fazed by her resistance to tell me. I knew what I was doing; I was just making it harder for me and for her.

"Stop it…"

"No!" I whipped around, angry. Angry at Naomi for not answering my question, angry at the doctors for not being able to fix me.

Angry at myself for dying.

"How long Naomi until I die?" There were tears in both of our eyes, tears we knew were pointless and yet they came anyways.

Naomi turned around to leave, lifting her hand to wipe away the few salty drops that had leaked from her eyes. I was breathing hard, and my head started to spin. I grabbed a hold of the window pane, staring at her as she left.

Naomi turned around at the doorway.

"Seven months, Matt. You have seven months left to live."

A/N:

Whew! I made it! I just pulled the last section outta nowhere, and I don't think it's that bad. I needed a girl there, and I didn't want to use Linda yet, so we got stuck with Naomi. Though I could see her and Matt being friends. Sorry for the excessive use of the word blood. I was going to shoot myself if I said it anymore, and I actually took two bloods out of there, but damn. -_-

Please let me know what you think! I know this chapter was a lot darker than the last one, but this is going to be a kind of dark themed fic. I feel bad for making Matt have seven months to live…The reason for that will tie into what he has (which you're going to have to wait to find out ;D). Any guesses as to what it is? I'd love to know. It should come up soon…ish, depending on how the chapters work out. But I'm going to have to study up on it to write this fic.

Sorry if any of the facts aren't accurate. I tried my best, but I fail. :D

Review please! You make my day!

Till next time~!