AN: Hey guys! Here is chapter 4! But, before we get started, just an FYI for people reading this that are also following my other fics- A Visit to Wammys and Misa's Diary. I will not be updating either this week. I'm so sorry, but this week I have tech week for a show I'm in (btw, if you're in the Boston area you should see it. In Braintree the Curtain Call Theater is putting on The Childrens Hour!) and I have my frst ever AP test on friday. So I'm spending all weekend studying, and all week rehearsing and studying, and not writing. Wah. :( The only reason this is being updated is because I wrote it in advance! So I guess I'm like a third smart? Kay, well that's all. R+R!
I don't know how (really, I don't want to know how he has such connections) but we ended up in America- LA to be precise. I'm sure it was beautiful, but I've never been much of an outdoorsy person, even in urbanized places, so I didn't pay much mind to the scenery. Well, that is, until we got into Mello's- to our part of town. I know I haven't seen much of the world, but I'm not an idiot. We were definitely in the bad part of town. And I mean the bad part of town- like the bodies in the dumpster, drug dealers out in the open, kind of "bad."
Mello glanced over his shoulder with a teasing smirk when he felt me tighten my arms around his waist (yes, he brought the motorcycle to America, and again, I don't want to know). "What's wrong, Matty-boy? Are you scared."
I ignored the little flip my stomach performed at the sound of the cute nickname and clenched my jaw. "No." I most certainly didn't want to appear weak in front of Mello, who would always go to extremes to prove his masculinity. When we were younger, I had teased him frequently, claiming his strength and temper were over-compensation for looking like a girl. Of course, there was probably a lot of truth to that. But besides that, I had a sneaking suspicion that one of the reasons I had been left behind was because Mello didn't think I was strong enough to tag along with him. I would not give him any reason to believe that changing his mind about my companionship was a mistake. So, I put on a brave face.
"Lier." I could hear the smile in his voice. I supposed I was a little relieved that not much had changed between us. Mello could still always tell I was lying, even by the mere sound of my voice.
"I'm not scared!"
He barked out a laugh. "Don't worry, Matt. I was a little freaked out too when I came to this shit hole. Of course, I was alone, and I was fourteen!"
"It's not my fault you were alone," I grumbled. Mello tensed. Shit. I didn't want to argue with him about it, not now, not ever. Of course I was a little resentful he left me, for all of the painful, lonely years, but I had already forgiven him. I forgave him the moment he stepped past my window sill- well as soon as I realized he was real anyway.
"We're here." When the roaring engine was turned off, the silence slapped me in the face. Damn was that motorcycle loud.
"Matt, you can get off of me now."
I flushed. "Sorry," I mumbled, reluctantly unwinding my arms from his waist. My shaking knees nearly gave out when my feet came in contact with the ground.
"You get used to that too. C'mon, our room's on the third floor." I glanced up warily at our apartment building. I wasn't afraid of it, per se, I was merely uncomfortable with the fact that it looked like it was about to crumble or spontaneously combust.
The knot in my stomach tightened as I watched Mello saunter towards the building. The thought of Mello living here all of these years... I had known there weren't many opportunities for runaway orphans but to think he'd end up here...
"Matt, you dimwit! Did you forget how to walk? Get your lazy ass over here!"
But the worst part is, I thought as I followed Mello up the stained stairs- stained with what was a question I refused to dwell on- that Mello looked at home in this dump. I mean, this was still Mello, and he wasn't filthy or a drug addict or anything (well, I think), but something about him made him look natural next to the broken door he was currently wrestling with.
It may have been the leather, it may have been his confidence, or it may have been his choppy haircut. But those qualities (although somewhat new to me) connoted with an image that was uniquely Mello. I had a feeling it was his eyes. Those eyes that spoke of determination, of danger, and of something far more sinister than I was used to- something that hadn't been there when Mello left. The Mello I knew wouldn't meld so flawlessly with these dilapidated surroundings.
"God fucking DAMN IT!" Mello cried as the door finally succumbed to his wrath.
"Do you want me to fix that lock?"
"Eh, don't bother. Everything's fucked up around here."
Stepping into the apartment, I could see what he meant. I fought the urge to wrinkle my nose- god, what was that stench?
"Heh, the smell," Mello remarked upon glancing at my expression. "Don't worry, it's not me. I try not to live like a pig. It smelled like this when I got here."
My hands instinctively groped for my goggles, which I was slightly surprised to find were securely implanted over my eyes. I absently chewed on my lip. It was rather unsettling, being with someone who could peer into my mind with such astonishing ease- I mean with my goggles still on. This was nothing new, Mello had always been able to read me. But after all of this time, I guess I just wasn't used to it.
"Take out your electro-geek shit," Mello dictated, fishing out a chocolate bar from his pants. Where was that bar hiding? Those leather pants were so tight. I did as he had commanded, sifting through my bag to retrieve my laptop along with various other electronics. "So, Matt," Mello nodded as I completed my task, "here's how it's going to work. In order to catch Kira, you need to-"
"You're still trying to find Kira!"
"Yes you idiot!" Mello whirred on me. "What? Did you think I gave up? I'm not a fucking quitter!"
"Chill, Mello! I know you're not!"
"Shut up! Why do you think I came to get you? With your help, I'll beat Near for sure! The little bastard may have all the resources, but I can outsmart him when I have two brilliant minds on my side!" he flashed me a wicked grin, eyes flashing with vindictive victory.
I suppose I should have been upset, felt utterly pathetic and worthless. He hadn't missed me half as much as I had hopelessly pined for him. And he had instigated our reunion for the same reason he had left me in the first place- to catch Kira, to avenge L, to beat Near. None of it had anything to do with me. But at the same time...
"You need me," I stated nonchalantly, as if I were commenting on the weather. Sure, he didn't need me in the way I would have liked... as his friend, as his emotional support, or as something more... But the fact that he needed me at all, for anything, was good enough for me.
Mello's face twisted in indignant fury. "I don't need you!" he spat. He stormed across the room, pacing back and forth, and showing no mercy to the crumpled chocolate wrappers that were so unfortunate as to be lying in the way of his wrath. "I don't need you," he repeated, muttering the phrase to himself.
"That's not true!" I jumped in his path. His eyes widened in shock before narrowing threateningly to match his plastered scowl.
Mello opened his mouth, lingering in that position for a wordless moment, caught in a gaping scowl before sputtering, "W-what do you mean!?" I smirked and stood a little taller. Mello wasn't one to stutter. And Mello clearly wasn't used to facing defiance either. I fought back a grin of utter delight. I was the only one who had ever stood up to Mello, and I was beyond grateful that this was still the case. Well, I supposed he would just have to get used to talking to someone who's spine didn't melt after a scathing glance.
"What I mean is that you're wrong. You do need me."
"Yes, because I'm absolutely incapable of living without you, Matt! Is that what you want to hear?" He barked, voice dripping in sarcasm. "After all, I didn't survive on my fucking own for three years! No, I fucking needed my Matty to hold my hand! Well, guess what, Matt? I'm still here! I didn't fucking die without you!"
"That's not what I was saying at all," I watched him grit his teeth at my serene expression with twisted glee. I knew my ability to keep a level head when we fought always ground on his nerves. "Funny how you immediately interpreted my words that way. I meant that you need me for the Kira case, considering you traveled six thousand miles to get me. That would be a Hell of a lot of effort for someone you don't need."
"Fuck you," he muttered. Yes, Mello was definitely rusty at fighting.
"So," I smiled, "what did you want me to do?"
"What the Hell, Matt? You- you... Fuck! I can't deal with you right now! I'm going out. Go play your stupid games like the useless prick you are." As he turned to leave, strutting towards the door, my heart clenched and my vision fogged. No, no. This was too similar... it was just like... My head spun and throbbed, and I dug my nails into my palm, desperately trying to find an outlet for the painful memories and biting emotions viscously ripping through my body.
As his hand grasped the door knob, a surge of furious adrenaline coursed through my veins.
"NO!" I cried.
The room is spinning, the room is spinning, why is the room spinning?
The memories, the festering wounds, where is Mello?
My head is throbbing, my heart is throbbing, my hand is throbbing, what's wrong with my hand?
I brought my trembling clenched fist before my face, staring at it blankly until the world stopped spinning around it, and my stomach stopped with it.
What the Hell was that?
And where is Mello?
"Mello?" I rasped.
"Matt, the Hell-" I looked down to find Mello lying at my feet, cradling his cheek in his hand.
"Mello! What are you doing down there?"
He looked at me with weary eyes and scrunched his brow in confusion. "Matt..." he removed his hand from his face, revealing his rapidly swelling cheek.
"Mello! What happened?"
"Y-you punched me." I punched him? Funny, I didn't remember. You'd think I'd remember my first time punching anyone in my life.
I blinked. "Oh." All I could do was stare at him, my mouth slightly agape in what was probably an incredibly idiotic expression. Mello looked strange at this angle. He was beneath me. I had hurt him. Oh god, had I really hurt Mello?
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I burst. "Mello! I'm so sorry!" I knelt down at his side.
Mello sat up and grasped my face firmly between his hands, almost painfully. "Matt, are you okay?"
"A-am I okay? You-" My voice wavered.
"Matt, you're still shaking..."
"I'm so sorry! I didn't want to hurt you! I didn't want to hurt you!" I cried in desperation.
"Calm down, Matt!"
"I'm sorry!"
"WILL YOU STOP APOLOGIZING?"
"S-sorry. I mean, shit. I mean, I'm sorry I-"
"Shut up, Matt. What the Hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing," I smiled, wrenching his hands off of my face- they really were starting to hurt. I wasn't lying. Everything was fine now. Mello didn't seem hurt, and he wasn't leaving. His undivided attention was on me. No, nothing was wrong with me. Things couldn't be better.
"Matt," he said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "You just had a panic attack and punched me. You're not okay."
"Oh yeah. I didn't mean to. You were just leaving and-" I bit my lip. Mello leaving...
"Matt," I stared diligently at the ground. "Matt, look at me damn it!" A crisp slap resonated through the dingy apartment. I raised a hand to lightly prod my cheek. Ow. I raised my eyes to meet Mello's stern glower. "That's more like it. Now you listen to me! I could send you back to England any time I want. So this is how things work around here. I do whatever the Hell I want. I come and go as I please. And you will do as I say, or I'll kick your little ass out of my apartment. You are going to do hacking jobs, research and whatever else I think of. You won't have panic attacks, and you won't hit me. You've lived alone in your room for three years... I saw that my shit was still in the room, so no one else moved in. So you can survive the mere hours that I'm gone. Are we clear?" I nodded my head numbly, and he grinned. "Good boy," he praised, patting my head. "Now, I'm going out, and you're not going to throw a fit."
He stood and brushed himself off before reaching once again for the door. He probably didn't realize that I saw the pain, the worry, and the remorse in his last fleeting glance.
But, it didn't matter what he said, or what truths lay behind his threats as the door slammed in my face. Mello was gone, and it hurt like Hell.
I clamped down on my lip, willing myself not to cry.
He left me again...
No! But he's coming back!
He came back last time too... eventually.
This time is different. He needs me now.
And yet he denies that fact.
He'll only be gone for a little while. I can make it 'till then.
Can I really?
Of course I can. I made it three years without him.
But now that I have him back, how can I let him go for an instant?
I'll manage. I always get by.
I pulled myself off of the floor and shuffled into the bedroom. Time goes by faster when you sleep... I flopped onto his bed, ignoring the formalities of preparing for bed and diving under the covers fully clothed. I buried my face in his pillow. It smelt like Mello...
I pushed from my mind the thought that this was exactly what I had done when he'd left, years ago. I enjoyed the moment, breathing in his scent and repeating the mantra in my head, over and over...
He'll be back soon... He'll be back soon... He'll be back soon...
I'm not alone.