Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note *yawn*

AN: So..... ok.... it was gnawing at my brain for the last few days, so I wrote it. I know many of you hadn't like the way I left it off at the end.... and originally I was going to make this as a sequel or whatever but I figured most wouldn't look through the other stuff to find it. (if I'm not making any sense it because I'm so DEAD after playing my new Wii DDR.)

Suggested Listening: Need You Now by Lady Antebellum; Forever and Always (piano version) by Taylor Swift; Disarm Me [With Your Loneliness] by Him; Broken Strings by James Morrison ft. Nelly Furtado

~Need You Now~

Labels were strewn about the floor, multi colored in their presentation, so that the color of the carpet was almost unknown. He wished the labels would find their way into the trash so he wouldn't have to look at them.

He closed his eyes instead and brushed his fingers across the smooth surface of his phone. His heart ached and he tossed it away. It landed somewhere in a pile of empty cigarette packs and wrappers.

The place was a mess and he knew he should at least pick up the things on the floor. But for the moment he was simply content to sit there, leaned up against the wall. He rubbed at his face and winced at the sensitivity of his eyes.

Lack of sleep could do that.

Well lack of actual sleep, passing out didn't count.

He was pathetic. He knew it, but couldn't do anything about it.

The soft music that splayed through his speakers, soft in only the volume, flipped to something he didn't recognize. Something with piano and a depressing melody. Just perfect. He heaved a sigh and stood up, stumbling slightly, and crossed the room to the laptop.

He didn't want to listen to music anymore.

Frustrated with himself, even in his half-drunk half-hangover state, he left for the kitchen and fumbled with a trash bag. He hated cleaning. He hated hating cleaning. He hated Mello.

He smiled bitterly at the thought.

Everything always came back to the blonde. He wished he could honestly say he was better off without him. But that would have been the biggest lie he'd ever told. Most of all, he hated himself for letting this mess with his head.

Four months without the leather clad blonde.

Four months with enough booze and cigarettes to knock years off his life.

Four fucking months alone and he was a wreck.

He angrily shoved bottles and wrappers into the trash bag and didn't let up until the floor was clean. With a sigh he tied a knot in the bag and tossed it into a corner. He'd get it later when he found out what time of day it was.

What day it was.

Fuck he missed Mello.

He slumped wearily onto the couch and winced as it jarred his head and made the dwindling headache come back full force. He could fix that, he thought drearily, and picked up a half-gone bottle of something-or-other and took a swig. It burned on its way down and Matt couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the lone item lying on the floor.

His cell phone.

Which he had kept charged but hadn't turned on, or even put the battery in, since he'd left. Mello would have been able to trace him. He could have gotten another phone, or removed the chip... but... it seemed too permanent.

He hated himself for his weakness.

For his blindness.

He should have seen that not everything was alright with them. But he'd been too content to notice. For a genius he was a fucking idiot. Just like Mello.

He wondered if Mello had tried to call at all...

He took another swig of liquid and retrieved the battery to his phone and replaced it. His fingers curled around it tightly as the power turned on but he clenched his teeth at the wallpaper.

He closed the lid and left it on the table.

He needed to do something... he couldn't stay like this. It just wasn't worth it. He settled with lighting up a cigarette for the moment.

His phone rang suddenly and it startled him. Only Mello knew his number. Numbly, he picked up the phone.

"Matt I-"

He shuddered a little at the blonde's voice. He sounded defeated, and so tired. God how he had missed his voice...

Mello might have said he missed him, or that he needed him, or something like that. But Matt wasn't listening to the words. He sighed. He didn't want that type of conversation on the phone.

He closed the lid and pocketed it. He ignored it the next time it rang. And if he stared at the door a little, there was no one there to notice. He stood there, leaned against the counter, cigarette in mouth and bottle in hand.

He flinched at the roar of a motorcycle as it road passed the apartment an hour later. He shook his head of those thoughts and stubbed the cigarette out on the counter while he left for the kitchen. At least until there was a knock on the door.

He didn't answer.

He did however go up to the door to see who it was. He didn't have to wait that long though. The knocks became impatient just as his hand reached for the heavy lock he'd installed after moving there.

"Matt, I know you're there." his hand froze at the familiar voice. He turned and rested against the door, letting the soft vibrations run through him. "Matt, open up damn it!" Mello growled, sounding frustrated, among other things.

He let his legs slide out from under him as Mello continued to pound on the door. He pulled his knees up to his chest and let his back touch the wood. He had known... really he had known Mello would find him.

He had let him.

The banging had stopped and there was a slight sliding sound before it was quiet. "I'm sorry." Mello said softly from the other side of the door and Matt clenched his eyes tightly. He could hear the pain in Mello's voice, a pain that he reflected in his silence. He lifted the bottle back to his lips but stopped just before the liquid touched his tongue.

His hands shook and he let the bottle drop to the floor. The amber colored liquid sloshed from the opening as it rolled across the carpet to stop only when it ran into the couch leg. He didn't want to forgive him. He didn't. And he wouldn't.

But he couldn't live without him.

He let his head hit the door softly. "Matt-"

"Shut up." he whispered. And Mello went silent. He wanted to scream that he hated him. That he should never come back. That he-

"I love you..." he heard Mello say quietly.

-but he wouldn't. Couldn't. Not when he felt as though a piece of himself had been ripped away those past months. He was furious with Mello. Hated what he had done. But he couldn't stop loving him.

"I can't forgive you." he said rather than 'won't'.

"I know." Mello said dejectedly. Matt imagined he was seated much like himself, on the other side of the door. His heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him... damn he was pathetic...

And he knew that there had truly never been any other outcome to the situation. He couldn't help the resentment he felt...

He stood quietly and unlocked the door. The second he opened the door he was pulled close to the blonde. He smelled of blood, leather and chocolate. And tears.

"I have a rage that scares even me, I didn't want to take it out on you. I'm sorry I hurt you, so fucking sorry-" but Matt had stopped listening after that. There were things he didn't understand about the blonde, and things he supposed he never would, but this, at that moment, would have to be enough.

He heard Mello's promise not to do it again.

Heard his promise to leave Kira behind and just be with him.

His promise to-

*

Mello hadn't kept any of his promises.

Matt hadn't expected him too.

They died on January 26th.

Together.

~Need You Now~

AN: K..... I bet you wish I had just stuck with the first two chapters? Be careful what you wish for? I blame the playlist I wrote this to........ (which consisted of the Suggested Listening songs. heh)

l