A/N: Yay another chapter! lol. Some of you misunderstood my last author's note I think, so I just wanted to clear that up: The contents of Chapter 8 wasn't where I was going to end a story, I wrote MUCH more into that chapter and ended up moving it into new ones. So the chapter 8 posted here was originally only the first 5 paragraphs of the original chapter 8 (now expanded into this chapter and a chapter 10) I will also most likely be writing a chapter 11 + bonus chapters. So I hope you all enjoy!


He returned to the apartment with his stash and found Mello in the kitchen, chewing on a slab of meat. He decided it didn't matter, the blond would need the strength anyway. The blond only eyed him as he went to the living room to set down his things on the table. He pulled out the two bottles and looked at them, wondering which to try first. Matt knew that Mello could probably only handle one, if that, and that if it didn't work, the second would probably kill him. It was hard to make a choice but he had been experimenting for days and he made his decision based on what he had seen so far. Shaking out two pills from the bottle, he walked calmly into the kitchen where Mello was sitting at the table. Finished eating, the infected watched him as he slowly walked over, holding out the two pills. Seeing them, Mello balked and ran, dashing into the living room before the redhead could stop him.

Matt ran after him, trying to catch and calm him down. The bond hopped over the couch and was headed for the bedroom but was tackled to the ground as Matt caught up and subdued him. The gamer caught his flailing arms and pinned them to the floor, stopping the blond from clawing at him. If his skin was broken by Mello's nails then it was likely he could catch the virus. Using his other hand, he stroked the side of Mello's face while trying to sooth him. His voice was low and even as he mumbled reassurances, even though Mello whimpered beneath him, refusing to open his mouth. The blond whined and cried, though it appeared he could no longer shed tears, just as he couldn't sweat.

Matt felt as though he were betraying the infected's trust by telling him everything was going to be ok. Mello had come to a place he believed to be safe, only to be tortured. He didn't understand what was happening, and Matt knew that to him it must seem like agony for no reason. He still shushed the blond and waited for him to calm down, feeling even worse that Mello would still trust him and take the pills even after they hurt him.

When the blond finally stopped struggling, Matt carefully pressed the pills against his mouth. Mello resisted at first but slowly he let himself be coaxed into parting his lips. He was rewarded with praise from the redhead and he opened his mouth further at the relaxing sounds. The redhead pushed them inside and murmured more encouragement to the blond, even though guilt flooded his system as Mello nuzzled his face into Matt's hand. When he had swallowed the pills, Matt released his wrists and lifted him up, laying him on the couch.

It only took ten minutes for Mello to begin convulsing, shivering so violently that Matt had to hold him still. His fever shot up and he nearly stopped breathing at the initial rush of medication through his veins. Matt sobbed as he held the blond close to him and rocked back and forth. Even louder than his crying, Mello's yells echoed off the walls as he wailed in anguish. He skin was burning and his pulse was erratic as he thrashed in the redhead's arms.

What had he done? This new medicine was going to kill Mello and he had given it to him knowing that this might be the consequence. The blond had trusted him, even as an infected, to do what was best and instead he had betrayed him. If Mello died here in his arms he knew he would soon follow suit, there was no way he could live knowing what he'd done. And yet, at part of him knew he would have done it all again. If death was the only way to get Mello back, he knew he would do it over.

It was four hours before he felt the first drop of sweat. Looking down, he saw several drops rolling down the blonde's forehead. According to Catrina, Mello couldn't sweat and it was an unexpected side effect. Matt wasn't sure if it was good or bad, but he did know that it was human so he counted it as a blessing. After two more hours, sweat was pouring off of him and Matt was working to keep him hydrated. The amount of water he was going through made him rethink is earlier decision. If things kept up, the sweating would kill Mello faster than the medicine would. He had no experience with IVs and no equipment, sterile or otherwise, to make one out of anyway. Matt would have to settle for pouring water slowly down his throat to keep him from choking.

When they reached the six-hour mark with Mello still alive, Matt debated giving him more medication. Working or not, it was at least doing something. According to the bottle's instructions he didn't needed to wait but Mello appeared to have a fast metabolism since the effects of most of the drugs he'd given him had worn off before their allotted time. The tremors were less severe and his breathing was shallow but adequate. Mello was recovering without being cured, though the odd sweating side effect hadn't decreased. He decided to give him two more pills early. This time Mello was too weak to fight and swallowed them without a struggle.

His symptoms grew worse again but though Matt needed to hold him down, they weren't quite as bad as before. At first he thought that Mello was building up immunity but he continued to give the blond pills and the reactions stayed the same. He watched carefully, noting when Mello's shivering lessened. He knew it was because his body was so weak but he also saw that each time they neared the wearing off point Mello seemed to be doing better. To test it, he found an old thermometer and sterilized it in boiling water. As he thought, every six hours Mello's temperature would dip to just below its original level. The cycle became almost hypnotic as he continued the process of medicating, restraining, hydrating, and soothing the blond for three days, only leaving once to retrieve another bottle of pills and cigarettes.

When Mello's fever broke, Matt almost couldn't believe it. He rechecked the thermometer several times until he was sure it wasn't mistaken and allowed himself to smile. He was still concerned with hydrating the blond but it was easier now that his breathing had settled down some. Over the following hour Mello's skin took on a much healthier tint, the most discolored places settling into dark bruises. Despite his progress, the blond was weak from the medication and lack of food. Matt had been feeding him small amounts of raw meat between doses but it wasn't enough.

Starting off gradually, he began feeding the blond cooked meat. He would wake the infected, though he was unable to stay up for long, to feed him. He hoped that it wasn't just weakness that cause Mello to accept meat that wasn't bloody. Matt was sure that it was a sign of recovery when he started slipping in other foods as well a day later. Mello was weak and barely conscious most of the time but he continued to look better, more himself.

He still didn't know if there was any change in Mello's mind since he was never very awake and constantly doped up. Matt knew what he had to find out soon but he wasn't sure if he could stop the medication after the blond had recovered. It might not be a permanent cure, in which case Mello would need to take it permanently. If it continued to have the same effects after he was better, then it was all in vain. Permanently drugged was just as bad as being mindless. He didn't want to get ahead of himself and pushed it to the back of his mind. For how he needed to focus on making sure Mello recovered first.