Hours past with relative silence, and in that time, Matt slipped in and out of consciousness. Mello, meanwhile, spent his time pacing the kitchen, merely thinking and finishing off his chocolate. Soon, though, he became restless, and was all too relieved when he heard that voice call out his name for a third time that day.
"Mello?"
The blonde paused in his back and forth strides, cocking a brow and returning to the living room to glare disdainfully at the other.
"What?" he demanded, failing to make his voice sound fierce. It became toneless instead.
Matt shifted, propping himself up on his elbows, only to wince and roll back over. He eventually attempted to sit back up again, this time succeeding.
"I'm sorry."
He always thought it was his fault for bad things that happened, even when they were obviously beyond his control. Still, disappointing Mello was like an ungodly sin, punishable only to the fullest extent. Mello merely grunted.
"You should be," he growled, stepping over to examine him for internal injuries. He pressed ferociously in places where bones were likely to be broken, and only received a strangled cry when he stabbed at the younger male's collarbone.
"It's broken," he announced disinterestedly. Matt just nodded, only to grimace again and try to keep himself up without inciting too much pain from his newly discovered injury. This was a failure of a plan, though, as he just received a deep throbbing for his efforts.
It was funny; earlier he couldn't feel a thing, not even when Mello was struggling to get him into the apartment room. Now he was searing. Good thing he didn't have time to dwell on this pain.
The blonde had drawn out his gun again and was pointing it ferociously at the other. He looked like he was about to say something, but the gamer decided to beat him to the punch.
"A little trigger happy today, are we?" he said through gritted teeth, giving up his attempt to stay upright and falling sideways into the less-than-comfortable couch.
"Shut up," he snarled. "Just be thankful I haven't actually pulled the trigger yet, moron." He paused, regarding Matt with the most venomous expression. Though, if you looked hard enough, you may have construed it to look like an infuriated mother's meeting her child after he had just done the unforgivable. This was slightly amusing, but if the redhead had tried to laugh, he would have not only been chastised by his angry wounds, but also by Mello's livid gunpoint.
"Why did you get in that taxi?"
Matt's expression went blank for a moment, and then something of a dawning look crossed his face. After all of this, he finally blanched as he began to recount the reasoning slowly. There was no reason to not tell; that would only result in a few bullets embedded in his skull.
Then again, maybe that would be welcome.
"I didn't want to walk," he said, stating this all simply.
Mello stared.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he demanded. He then cast the other a warning look, one that said: "Don't answer that question." He went on. "What was so far away that you needed to take a taxi? And why didn't you use your car?"
There was a mutual silence, and the redhead frowned. "You keep an awful lot of secrets, Mello," he said unyieldingly. "Aren't I entitled to mine?"
"No," said the other flatly, his gun hand twitching slightly before he tucked it away. "Because you almost got yourself killed because of it."
"And you care?"
Mello glowered, then stalked out of the room muttering something unintelligible. He retreated into the bedroom, throwing off his hooded jacket and sitting on the end of the bed for a moment, staring through the gap in his gloved fingers down at the carpet below. Not necessarily an attractive sight, but it was something to occupy his gaze while he could not do so with his thoughts.
Another hour passed, and the blonde figured he had sulked for long enough. Besides, it wasn't exactly best to leave the other alone with his injuries, in case he suddenly started to bleed or something equally horrific.
Striding back into the room, however, Mello found that he had drifted off again, lying stiffly against the couch with his brow furrowed and a small frown touching his lips. He looked so uncomfortable that it coaxed a sadistic grin on the blonde's face as he neared.
A small hint of bruising was visible on Matt's left shoulder, where it stretched across his chest, unseen under the striped shirt, and down. For a moment, there was nothing new about this. It was just the seatbelt bruise.
But then, something dawned on Mello.
Perhaps it was just the paranoia he was famous for catching up to him, but as the images of the car crash ran through his head, the blonde realized that the redhead could not have been in the taxi when that wreck occurred. Both cars' left side passengers' seat were damaged so badly that no one there at that time could have survived, or have had the strength to climb all the way up to the second floor of the apartment without passing out midway or dying. It was impossible.
And yet, the wounds that Matt had sustained showed evidence that he had been sitting on the left side of a vehicle. He must have been some sort of crash…the injuries all supported that theory.
He was missing something, and the only way he could find out what would be to question Matt. But, Mello conceded mentally, the he probably wouldn't be so willing to part with that sort of information. What was it that he had said?
"You keep an awful lot of secrets, Mello. Aren't I entitled to mine?"
Dammit.
What was it that Matt was keeping from him? It must have been something important; otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered. He wasn't the kind to keep secrets, especially not from Mello. In a half-rage, the blonde stomped away from the unconscious figure on the couch and around the living room, thinking fiercely as he did so and kicking a few wayward game consoles that had the misfortune to lie in his way.
Eventually, he stopped, exhaling loudly and glaring at Matt with penetrating eyes. Should he wake him? No, not yet…questioning was better left for when the other was fully prepared for it, only because Mello wanted to know anything and everything, and all that was between. He had to.
The younger one stirred in his awkward positioning on the couch, provoking a scowl from the elder, who quit his soundless pacing to start for the door. Maybe there was something there…a clue…
Fuck it.
This wasn't an episode of Scooby Doo.
And yet, he still found himself scouting around the outside, seeing only the smears in the snow where Matt's feet had become clumsy in their hike up the snow-laden steps.
It wasn't until he whipped around when he found anything abnormal. A small grocery back was left, neglected, against the wall, and Mello was surprised that he hadn't seen it before. He went over to inspect it, using his fingertips to part the plastic handles and peer inside.
Lying frigid at the bottom of the bag was an assortment of chocolate bars.
"Little bastard…" muttered the male, picking up the bag and carrying it with him inside to shelter it away from the cold. It was pitiful how he mothered those chocolate bars, setting them almost lovingly onto the counter in the kitchen before taking one out, peeling it skillfully, and taking his place on an armchair near the sleeping Matt.
Now was the time to wait.