OMG, I hit 450 views and almost had a heart attack, it was a pretty awesome moment. And thanks for your lovely reviews! It's really nice to feel wanted, you guys /girls/ both/ shipping nerds/ fangirls/ fanboys/ downright weirdoes are just brilliant as hell! Science AND Spanish exams out of the way, only Science in May and I'm done for the year! Well, on with the story, yeah it's a pretty awful chapter, but suffering from severe Writers Block at the moment, so please don't hate me.
DISCLAIMER- I don't own Death Note, or a fish, or a horse or A Death Note, though I do have seven full-proof plans to kill people. Um, yeah, I'm a bit twisted. Well you have to be to threaten to shove a keyboard up someone's arse because he wouldn't stop playing the same three notes.
Chapter Five- Wanted
Mello POV (Russian)
Three months, we've been here three months and nothing has happened. Father hasn't found us, Maks hasn't called though Anastasia had hidden an untraceable phone's number in his diary that she had found. I'm not sure I want Maks to call, he's my brother and I love him but he still abandoned me and hated me when Father told him to. Though, I still want him to find us, so that I can get him to explain why he followed Father for four years like a sheep. For three months, I've actually had a friend, Matt, the first friend I've ever had. He's an absolute nerd, he smells of cigarettes, likes to drop paint onto people's heads out of the window, shy and a complete weirdo but he's still awesome. He's brilliant, smart, and without even knowing me he still knows everything about me.
Three months I've been living a lie.
Sometimes, I wish I was back in Russia, where at least I could be myself, not lie about my name, not lie about everything I am. Then I sober up and realise that here in England is the best place for me to be, not off in Moscow being shunned and despised and beaten because of who I am. Why, I really don't understand because sometimes I want to go back, and sometimes I want to stay here and never leave Winchester. It doesn't make any sense in my head, sometimes I want to be here and sometimes I really don't. People are nicer here, they don't hate you or despise you or beat you just because of who you are.
In the past three months, I've learnt a lot about the red haired gamer/ nerd called Matt. One, he plays too many games that are going to rot his brain, two he smokes way too much and three: he has too many nightmares for one person. He wakes up screaming almost every night, dripping with sweat, exhausted and terrified. From what I've learnt of Matt's mother, I'm not surprised he has nightmares. He told me he was found by L after being locked in The Wardrobe (yeah it needs capital letters) for four weeks, starving, malnourished and lying in his own filth and tears. I think I cried a little after he told me that, it was just too sad.
To be honest, we both have nightmares. We rarely sleep, and when we do its short and interrupted with either our own or the other's nightmares. Night, night is our time. Night the time when we comfort each other, when we get to be ourselves and get to be honest with each other. We rarely have a night when we don't need to be comforted, we never have a night when we don't talk about who we are and who we were. It sounds gay yeah, and it kind of is. I found out that Matt was gay from Linda, because she quickly discovered that I drive on the 'other side of the road' so to speak. Linda keeps dropping little hints after that, mentioning that we would be 'good as more than friends'. I wish we were, but I don't think we have time for that kind of thing.
"Miheal? Earth to Miheal?" I shoot up, and slam my face right into Anastasia's head. She groans in pain and it takes me a while to realise that I was day dreaming, "God, what's with you today? You've been out for ages, I've being calling your name for five minutes!"
"Sorry," I need to get my brain in gear, Russian Miheal, you're speaking Russian, "I've just got a lot of stuff on my mind."
"Yeah," Anastasia nods, I can hear the bitterness in her voice, "I noticed."
"Sorry." I mutter, hanging my head, because I should be thinking about my siblings, and not Matt. It's wrong, just so so wrong.
"It's okay," I feel her arms wrap around my waist in comfort; "I missed you, Miheal."
"I missed you too," I whisper back, "I wish I could see you more."
"Well," Anastasia pulls back, looking at me with her loving brown eyes, "You get to have an amazing education, which is really good because you can be whatever you want to be."
"I'm going to be L," I say, and she smiles at me, glad I finally have some dream or goal to be going towards.
"Then no one will ever touch you," she nods, reassuring herself more than me, I can tell, it's written in her eyes: she's worried about me. I'm worried about me. She then whispers, almost as if it physically hurt her to say, "No one will hurt him, just believe that."
"Miha!" Yurik yells as he runs through the door, Oleg and Avel in tail. If they had tails they would be wagging at double time, because they look so happy. They're lovely, childish innocent eyes that still hide the horror and pain of what Father did. I know it hurt them too, I know they suffered from the knife as well, but in such a different way to how it hurt me. It's so unfair, how much the knife hurt our whole family in so many different ways.
"Miha!" Oleg jumped on my lap, Avel jumped on his and then Yurik landed next to me, his legs wrapped around my knee innocently, they're all smiling and cheerfulness. If only they knew, if only they knew that Father would find us soon, because he's not an idiot as long as he was sober, and he's definitely going to notice that five of his kids are missing.
"We missed you!" Avel wraps his arms around my waist, his now thicker arms felt good. After three months they've all put on weight, but even with all the chocolate I've stayed as skinny as ever. I wish I could put on some weight, it would make Anastasia worry about me a little less.
"It's only been a week!" I laugh, Avel shakes his head, "That's not too long is it?"
"Yeah it is!" Avel insists, shouting a little to get his point across, "We barely see you now!"
"Well, I miss you too," I tickle his belly and he laughs, "And I come every weekend!"
"We used to see you every day..." Oleg complains, "Now we only see you at the weekends..."
"I know," I say and ruffle his lovely black hair, it's long now, I guess it hasn't been cut in a while, "I worry about you lot you know."
"It's okay," Anastasia laughs unknowingly, "We just miss you Miha, it's not like something bad is going to happen."
"Yeah," I say, nodding only to myself, "You're safe."
For now.
Matt POV (English)
Mello's gone, visiting his family off somewhere and I'm sitting here all alone because it's either being by myself or being with Linda. Which, unsurprisingly, is not where I want to be. Linda told me a while back that Mello was gay, which made my heart jump a little, but he hasn't mentioned it so I'm not going to mention it. Ever since, Linda's been saying how cute we are together, how good a couple we'd make and how we should 'totally get together!'. How about no. I don't have time for a boyfriend right now, I finally saved up to buy Hitman Reborn that came out last month and I'm a bit busy trying to beat this thing. I have the sound down on silent, because I finally downloaded Black Veil Brides: Wretched and Divine, the Story of the Wild Ones. Yeah, I like BVB. So sue me. Days are Numbered comes on, blaring out guitars and just the pure awesomeness that is Andy Sixx. His voice, literally gave me an orgasm once. That's a secret, don't tell anyone okay? Suddenly, I have to start singing.
Before your life is over, know this to be true
All the hate we hold inside still won't save your youth
Don't waste your time on tragedy, easy to forget
Time that's lost enemies fought are worth the price to live
One day at a time, one day at a time
Listen when we're calling
Your time has arrived
Our days are numbered in the world of fools
We feel the hunger and follow no one's rules
Everybody wants eternal life and nobody can seem to get it right, oh,
Our days are numbered and you're no fool, nobody's fool
Man worships the gospel that they preach to you
Living like a demon, a burden left to prove
You can live your life in heaven or create your hell
We will write our end result with every tale we tell
One day at a time, one day at a time
Listen when we're calling
Your time has arrived
Our days are numbered in the world of fools
We feel the hunger and follow no one's rules
Everybody wants eternal life and nobody can seem to get it right, oh,
Our days are numbered and you're no fool, nobody's fool
These steps we take to be fearless are yours, life is yours
When death's at stake you'll be fearless, be sure, life is yours
Our days are numbered in a world of fools
We feel the hunger and follow no one's rules
Everybody wants eternal life and nobody can seem to get it right, oh,
Our days are numbered and you're no fool, nobody's fool
Nobody's fool
I'm nobody's fool
Dear Zelda, this band just sings to my fucking soul! Just so fucking powerful. I open my eyes, not realising I'd closed them and the Game Over sign glares at me on the screen. Shit, I lost. Okay, click reset and start playing again. The next three hours go just like this; play the game, fail, restart, fail a little further along, restart, fail, give up and scream at the wall, have a cigarette, play the game, fail, restart, fail a little further along, restart, fail, give up and scream at the wall, have a cigarette, play the game... You get the point.
Getting a bit bored without Mello here now, the room seems too big now. Before, I could sit here alone for hours and play my games, but now without the scent of his chocolaty breath breathing down my neck as he watches me play the room seems lonelier. Without his being slouched on the desk studying, the room seems a little too big without him here; everything's a little bit too empty. Eventually, I give up on the game. I'll finish it later, I can start it again and then I can beat it! Maybe Mello knows how to play this game. Pfft! AS IF! That boy does not have an ounce of 'gamer' in his body. I don't think his leather and long blonde hair will allow that. Well, I wonder how much he actually knows about gaming anyway?
Suddenly, another song comes on, I left the album on constant repeat, it's going to play over and over and over again. Yeah, I really love this band. And I'm not an emo, fuck you! But this is a special song, one close to my heart. It kind of a song that just speaks to me, so I sing it, sing it loud and I don't worry about who hears me.
Born a saint
But with every sin I still want to be holy
I will live again
Who we are
Isn't how we live we are more than our bodies
If I fall I will rise back up and relive my glory
In the end as you fade into the night
Oh whoa oh
Who will tell the story of your life
Oh whoa oh
And who will remember your last goodbye
Oh whoa oh
Cause it's the end
And I'm not...
"Matt?" Mello laughs, I jump at the sound of his voice at the door, somehow I can hear him over the music and myself. I stop singing, "What the actual fuck are you singing?"
"It's called In The End, Mell," I shake my head in exacerbation, "By Black Veil Brides, by the way."
"Who are Black Veil Brides?" He asks, his head tilted in interest
"Did you seriously just ask that?" I ask, but then I realise something, "Oh yeah, they haven't hit Russia yet."
"So...?"
"BVB, they're literally just pure awesomeness mixed with emotion and a great big mahoosive dollop of sexiness on the side. They're a band, and I think you might like them. Considering the leather and shit."
"What has leather got with it?" He chuckles a little, he looks happy and almost wistful, I guess he had a good time.
"Nothing." I say, laughing a little, it's so easy to laugh when he's around, "Anyway, what you know about Hitman Reborn?"
"What do you think?" He gestures at himself, leather trousers, leather jacket, white shirt under a black hoodie and big, black military boots. He's all pale white skin, hair and skinny bones that somehow still look curvy. Mello told me his father wouldn't let him eat much food. Bastard. Okay, I think Mello beats BVB in the sexiness department. Wait, he wins hands down with no shadow of a doubt. And that's saying something, because I used to think those guys were the epitome of sexiness. I guess I was wrong. Very. Wrong.
"Okay, stupid question," He scoffs and nods, "How's everyone?"
"Good," He smiles his cute little, loving smile that only his family get to see. I don't count because he's only thinking of them right now, I doubt he even knows I'm here, "Though they miss me."
"Naw!" I put on a fake, girly accent, "Does poor little Mello-kins miss his ickle family?"
"Fuck off Matty," He throws a pillow at me, then freezes when he realises he's just used a nickname for me, "That, was weird."
"Nah, it's okay," I laugh, I'm not sure why but I like that nickname when it comes from him, "I kinda like it."
"Well, okay Matty."
"Well, okay Mells."
"That's really gay, you guys do know that, don't you?" Linda suddenly jumps onto Mello's bed, making both of us jump out of our skins, "Oh wait, you don't have to worry about that do you?"
We both glare at her, well, Mello does and I simply look at her from behind my goggles.
"You are both gay." Linda says, "It's not like you have to worry about appearing a little camp. It's not like someone's going to kill you for it!"
And Mello drops to the floor, out like a light.
"What did I say?" Linda stares as I go over to the blonde, I shake his shoulder, trying to stir him. This is a little concerning. Someone doesn't just faint for no reason, it doesn't happen.
"It's his..." I stop myself from telling her, I know Mells won't want everyone knowing about what happened over in Russia, "Just go get Rodger, tell him Mello fainted."
With that she's gone, leaving me alone with the unconscious blonde Russian, who I pick up and throw him onto the bed. I tried to put him down carefully, but it's hard because I have no upper-body strength, so my arms just collapse under his weight, even though he doesn't way much. He weighs almost nothing at all. I pull a chair up beside the bed, not wanting to leave him. When he's asleep, he looks so broken, so vulnerable and so delicate, like a flower. A Russian, badass, chocolate addicted, screwed up flower. Maybe he's a black rose, dark and hellish, but still beautiful and delicate all at the same time. Those flowers would match him perfectly, mirroring and contrasting at the exact same moment.
Oh, since when was I a poet?
Rodger and the nurse come a few minutes later, I explain what happened, the nurse checks Mello over, takes his temperature. She says he's just unconscious, that he'll wake up soon, probably with a headache and I should tell her when he wakes up. Then her and Rodger leave, and just like that I'm alone with him again. I stay, I don't pull out a game or even turn on the music, I simply watch and wait for him to wake up again. I start stoking his blonde hair, it's just as soft as I imagined it would be and it's so fine and so perfect. I stare at his calm face and smile at how peaceful he is. Before, even when he was asleep, his face was always sad, always scared and always broken. I'm pretty happy with myself, I think I fixed him. Even if it was only just by a little bit.
I move down to his arm, I want to stroke his wrist, but it's covered in those black wristbands of his. I pause for a moment, I shake myself and start unclipping them, top ones to the bottom. Each snap is a little too ominous, a little too loud, like a countdown to something terrible. Then I see it, a thin white line stretching across his wrist. My breath hitches in my mouth, everything freezes for a moment, but I continue unsnapping those bands, quicker and more urgently now. I stare at his wrist again, not quite believing what I see. There are hundreds of them! Line after line after line after line after line after line, stretching across his arm and his wrist. I can't believe it. The lines are sometimes crossed over each other, obviously when he finally ran out of room on his arm, sometimes they're broken in little dots, sometimes they're so obviously sawed in, some are pure clean lines without break. All are absolutely heart breaking. I'm not sure what's worse: that he did this to himself, or that his father drove him to this. Bastard, if I ever meet that bastard I'm going to kill him. He doesn't even deserve to be called Mello's father, he's now Bastard. He's now just The Bastard.
Mello stirs, groaning a little as my hand slips and I drop his arm onto the wooden post of the bed. His ice-blue eyes flutter open, heavily lidded and pain-filled. Then, his eyes move over to his bands on the table, to his wrist, to me and back to his wrist again. His eyes snap open in fear and surprise and something else that I can't place. We don't talk for what seems like and age, we simply stay statue-still, frozen as we stare at the other. Mello's breath sounds almost painful to take in, my heart aches in horror, concern and what I think is love.
"Matt..." He tries to speak, but his words are almost sobs, broken and fearful. My heart, or what was once my heart, is broken into thousands of little pieces.
"Mello," I grab at his wrist and he winces in pain, "Why?"
"I just..." He sits up, I can see his arms shaking now, "I didn't know any other way..."
"But, this wasn't the way to do it Mells," I try and fight back the tears, but with no way of stopping them from falling, I abandon my goggles. It's dark enough in here for it not to hurt, and Mello looks a little guilty.
"I had no reason to do this," Mello mutters, and I hear him choke on the words, "You had it so much worse than me..."
"Shut up!" I scream at him jumping out of my chair, shattering the quiet hush we had created in fear of breaking the other, "Don't you dare fucking say that! You're saying your life wasn't bad? Well, let me tell you something, you're life is just about as fucked up as it possibly gets! So don't you ever fucking dare say your life was okay!"
"Matt, I..."
"No!" I yell, tears are now falling down my face and I couldn't give less of a fuck, and suddenly, I crash into calm and sit back down again and talk to him like any other normal person would, "Mello, I don't want to be angry at you, but, why didn't you tell me?"
Then, out of nowhere, his lips crash into mine. My eyes open so wide I'm afraid the skin will rip, but then I just melt into him and my eyes close, hiding my dirty little secret. He tastes, not surprisingly, of Belgium Chocolate, his lips are warm and clammy. But it's absolutely perfect. Every second adds more and more power into it, adds more emotion and just becomes better and better. I let everything out, every single little scrap of feeling I've ever had for the blonde, and it adds up to something great. The questions of do I like him, do I want him, will he love me, what is this, why am I feeling like this, I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, add up to something just explosive and something wonderful. Something more than just liking him, something more than just lust or attraction, something that adds up to love. He's just as into this as I am, he grazes the bottom of my lip with his tongue, asking for permission to enter, and I answer him eagerly. I open and my senses are filled with Mello, of chocolate and what hints of Vodka. Russians...
"Matt..." He breaths, and there's just one thing I want right now.
"Mail," I say and he stares at me, lips upturned in humour, "Mail Jeevas."
"Miheal," He pulls in for another kiss just before he adds, "Miheal Keehl."
"Miheal..." I mutter into his mouth, not bothering if he doesn't hear, "I love it."
"Mail, I love that too," He laughs a little, his voice husky and sexier than it normally is.
And the rest of the night? I'm not one to have sex and tell...
Mello POV (English)
I wake up warm, which surprises me a little. Then I see it, well, I see him. Mail, that name, I love that name, it somehow seems to match him perfectly, it works and contrasts and fits and is oversized and undersized, it's fixed and it's broken, it's perfect and imperfect. It does him justice, but it doesn't compare at all. For the love of God, it's just a name, it's not even important and it doesn't mean anything. Yet it's the most important thing in the world, and it means absolutely everything in this whole damn world.
Last night, from what I can remember, was brilliant. I don't care if anyone heard Matt's screams of pleasure as I topped him, I don't care if anyone heard us crying in a frenzy of lust and love. I don't care if everyone in this whole damn place knows about us, I don't care if no one knows. All I care about is that Matt Carters/ Mail Jeevas is now mine, he's my little guilty pleasure, mine and all mine and no one else's. I hear faint music in the background, and I realise that Matt left his music on. I stretch my arm a little, and turn it up slightly, just so I can hear it and a calming piano piece plays at me, it almost sends me to sleep but then the leader starts singing, and I just can't help myself, I have to listen. That voice is a little eerie, a little charming, a little sexy and just so emotional.
The best things in life
Come with a price
The star that burned so bright faded the fastest
You'll always feel it's right
Even when we end the fight
Welcome home, home tonight
Singing ohhh, ohhh
Welcome home tonight
Ohhh ohh, tonight
Words they don't know how to make amends
And all they do is push you to the edge
But it's not wasted
It's all done for you
(Oh ohhh)
It's all done for you
(Oh ohhh)
It's all done for you
(Oh ohhh)
It's all done for you
Oh ohh
I finally understand music.
"Guys!" Linda screams into our room as she bursts the door open, Matt sits up suddenly and groans as he smacks his head on the wooden post of the bed. Linda stares at us both sitting in the same bed, hair ruffled in that I-just-had-sex-way and naked, "Oh! My! God! You two, together? Really, when in God's name did this happen? Details! NOW!"
"What the shit do you want Linda?" Matt asks, his voice groggy, his goggles aren't on and he's squinting to stop the light from hurting so much, "It's like seven in the morning on a Sunday! I'm being serious, someone better be dead or else you will be."
"Mello's second place!" Linda cries gleefully, and Matt freezes like a statue
"He's what?" He asks, at the same moment I ask, "I'm what?"
"Mello is second place!" Linda squeals a little as she stares at us both again, a smile erupting from her insides, "Mello beat you Matt!"
"Someone explain what the hell is going on!?" I scream, interrupting the two, "I'm second place of what?"
"Second place in the Rankings," Linda explains, but continues as I tilt my head in question, "You really don't know anything, do you? Well, every month the Rankings of everyone in Wammy's is posted, and before you, the top two were Near and Matt. Now, it's the best three who get to see L at the end of the year. Everyone expected you to be fourth or third, but you came second! You beat Matt, now Near is the only one smarter than you! That means you're second in line to become L!"
"Really?" I ask incredulously, "I'm second?"
"Yes!" Linda squeals again. Really, that's frigging annoying, "You're second!"
"I'm second?" I don't really believe her, "Are you being serious?"
"Yes, why won't you believe me?" Linda asks, she sounds a little miffed about it, but I'm not going to explain why I can't believe her, "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother."
With that, she flounces out of our room and slams the door, her brown hair flying everywhere and her hips swaying in disgust. I sit there for a while, not quite sure what to do next. I'm fucking second place! This is just... I can't explain it. It's wonderful, I actually achieved something, I actually did something right I wish Father could see me now, so I could spit in his face and tell him I proved him fucking wrong, but I don't even care what he thinks of me anymore. I don't care that he hated, still probably hates, me and I don't care that he beat me, that he hurt me, that he tried to kill me, that he hurt my siblings. Because I did something right, I proved him wrong! I'm not worthless, I'm not stupid or good for nothing, I'm actually worth something! Too happy right now, way too happy. But, I've now proved that everything Father told me was wrong. Suck on that, bitch!
I feel a pair of thin arms wrap around me from behind me. Hair tickles the nape of my neck and I can smell Matt's distinctive smell. This is just wonderful, I've proven my father wrong and I finally have someone other than The Twins from Hell, Avel and Anastasia. I have six people, six people to love me. More than I ever thought I would have. We sit there like that for a while, I put my hand on top of his head and stroke that beautiful red hair that he really needs to cut. Oh, like I can really talk. I haven't cut my hair in like, three years and just let it grown in pure fear of leaving the house. Pure fear of leaving, pure fear of staying. I couldn't have won. Fighting a battle already lost, a battle that I should have never started, a battle I shouldn't have dared to join, a battle where it was just me fighting a thousand armies. I was fighting one that couldn't have been beaten alone. I won though, with the help I severely needed because without it, I would have given up completely. Not even bothered waking up in the morning, because there would be no point in living anymore.
"Wellone Miheal," I soft yet smoky voice says in my ear, barely annunciating words "I'mroud of you."
"Thanks," I mutter back, combing my hair through his hair that is surprisingly soft, "You're pretty amazing you know Mail."
"Yeah..." He trails, and I can hear the hint of disbelief in his voice. I know he doesn't believe.
"Yes." I twist around and stare him right in the eyes, and smile at him in the kindest smile I can muster, "You're... идеальный Mail, вы просто ... совершенной."
"I don't know Russian, Miha," I freeze a little, my heart stopping at his use of my old nickname, not really believing that he just said it.
"Oh..." I trail off, trying to get my brain to start, "I said: you're perfect Mail, just perfect."
"You think so?" I know he doesn't believe me. So I guess it's my turn now; he fixed me, so now it's my turn to fix him because he needs to be fixed just as much as I needed to be fixed, and it's my job and my job alone.
"Yes." I say, nodding at him in reassurance, "Вы прекрасны."
"Cпасибо," he says with a smile, and I just have to smile back at him.
"I thought you didn't know any Russian..." I tease, he laughs and I laugh back. In the background, Andy Sixx sings words that match the moment perfectly:
Sit down with thoughts alone now,
With blood these lyrics came.
Your words, they eat right through me,
Death could hear my shame.
The tears we've cried, this love has died,
You're by yourself with me tonight.
It's what we hide with every lie,
And stitch these wounds with me tonight...
So, finally finished! I would have posted last night (UK time here) but editing took a little longer than I thought, and I really just wanted to add the last bit so I did. Sorry this chapters filled with quite a lot of Black Veil Brides lyrics, but personally I think it just adds a little more to it. At first, it didn't have any lyrics in it, but after I put them in, it just flowed better. Oh, the orgasm to Andy Sixx's voice IS NOT FROM EXPERIANCE. Just wanted to add a little weird moment from Matty's past just because I was bored...
Like? Dislike?
PLEASE JUST REVIEW! Reviews make me feel happy, make me feel good inside...