Do you know that when I wrote this chapter I completely forgot that it's still winter in the timeline of things and didn't even bother to check if it would actually be warm in Los Angeles? That's how great I am at continuity XD. But I didn't go back to change anything because I like it the way it is. Sorry if it bothers you. Also sorry if you don't like my first and probably only original character in this story. I'm not even usually brave enough to use them in fanfiction, but I thought I'd give it a go to spice things up. Anyways I hope you enjoy how it turned out, please review and here is your Chapter Twelve:

Matt finds LA to be a tacky sort of beautiful. The palm trees which he knows are real, because their leaves are smooth to the touch and can be peeled in two, still look too green and fake. The mountains on the horizon could be painted on or a movie green screen backdrop. All of LA could be a movie set actually. The tanned skinned fit locals in their designer clothes all extras hired to be mulling about in the background, acting like the part time models most of them really are. Matt's just a supporting character, and as for the main lead, it would be Mello of course, because Matt would put his money, if he had any, on him being the most interesting person in the large city.

He surely looks the part. Matt always knew that Mello had a thing for black but he never pegged him as a leather man. It's all he's bought since they've gotten to LA, came back to their dump of an apartment a few nights after they'd arrived with it, after Matt had finally slept all the jet lag away. He was clad in a tight vest and shiny pants, boots laced up tight. Before Matt could stop himself he started laughing at him. Mello still has his baby fat clinging to him despite his slowly increasing height and the hairs peeking out from the bottom of his vest and trailing down into his waistband. He's caught somewhere between man and boy and the look combined with the fury in his eyes, despite their intimidating gaze, kind of makes him ridiculous. Matt just can't help himself. But he pays for it, Mello swipes at him and slaps the smirk right off his face.

"You'd think you could afford to get us a better place if you're going to be running around in that get up." Matt says, using one hand to hold the tub of chocolate ice cream to his face and using the other to gesture to the cramped living room around him from his spot sitting on top of the freezer they'd squeezed into the corner.

"What's the fucking point in getting a ritzy ass place if we're only going to be sleeping here?! Besides it's my cash so I'll do what I want with it. Besides it's not that bad."

Matt begged to differ. There was a brown vinyl couch and armchair that they had picked up directly from someone's curb and cleaned, a few floor lamps, and a scuffed coffee table constantly covered with the two laptops they had bought, chocolate bar wrappers, and Matt's DS and playing cards. There was an archway that was so short Mello's head brushed against it leading into a kitchen filled with second hand appliances, including a fridge Matt was constantly trying to restock with real food as Mello only seemed to ever come home with more and more chocolate. Fuck, that's why he was holding this to his now swelling cheek instead of a real icepack! Even though he was supposedly so clever Matt knew that he was going to have to make all the practical decisions for the both of them to keep them alive.

The bedroom was the only thing he couldn't complain about it, even though it was by no means a luxury suite. It's small sure, the walls were black which he found kind of depressing because you couldn't even make out your own hand in front of your face in the dark, and the bed had no headboard, but it was theirs. It was theirs and Mello slept in his arms as always, digging his fingers into his skin when he had nightmares and cursing at Matt when the light of his DS hits his face when Matt plays it at night if he's tired of lying awake over thinking things. Matt takes these curses like compliments, shuts the thing off and chucks it across the floor before snuggling deep under the covers, cupping Mello's hipbones in his hands and rubbing his fingers over his ribcage and asking Mello if it bothers him. He tells him that it doesn't as long as Matt shuts the fuck up and goes to sleep but Matt can tell it relaxes him, his breathing evens out instead of hitching with fear in his sleep so long as Matt keeps his hands on him, and so he does. Even though he never initiates these touches, Matt hopes it never bothers Mello to be close to him.

But he's certainly not shy. The only bathroom is off their bedroom, tight with just a shower, the kind you swing back the plastic door and walk into. Matt always beats Mello to it the first few mornings, desperate to wipe away the cold sweats he's been getting at night even though it's January. Feeling the blood on his head of the man who got shot, it's fucked him up. He swears he can feel it trickling down his neck in the dark sometimes. But Mello's not a patient guy. Matt almost slips and falls when he hears the plastic bang against the wall and Mello's arm brushes his side as he reaches past him for the soap.

"You take too damn long and I'm not going to take a cold fucking shower! Oh don't look at me like that we've been in the bath together before!"

But Matt can't stop the pink from colouring his cheeks or he heat forming in his stomach when Mello's chest bumps into his back.

"You've still got shampoo in your hair idiot." Mello's hands scrub through the roots of his hair and Matt sighs. This is home. Be it small and cramped or dirty, Matt wouldn't have it any other way if it meant he would miss out on feelings like this. "I'm going out today alright? Today's the perfect day, I know where the guy I'm getting will be and how to get there, thanks to the tabs you've been keeping on him."

Matt's eyes closed in peace snap open. Since they'd gotten there Mello had gotten him to set up their computers and Matt had done all the hacking needed to access the programs they could use to track the movements of the mafia leader Mello wanted to hunt down. But he thought that it would take longer for Mello to come up with a well thought out plan and be ready to execute it.

"You're gonna... you're gonna take out that guy today huh? But you don't have to go by yourself, I can come to." Matt protests grabbing Mello's elbow but his friend jerks his hand off.

"I don't want you there because it just means I'll have to look after you, and you don't know how to shoot a gun. Which is the same reason why you sure as fuck won't be coming to see the mafia with me when I go to meet them either."

"What?! What the hell am I supposed to do then, just wait here all day for you to get back?"

"I don't care what the fuck you do! Go out and explore the city, play your stupid ass video games, clean the apartment, it doesn't matter to me so long as you don't get yourself into any trouble. You wanted to come with me and that's my condition let me do my thing and stay safe so I don't have to worry about you."
Matt grabs hold of his friend's fingers and pulls them away from his head, using them to turn himself around and Mello chest to chest.

"Are you really not concerned at all that something could go wrong? What if you got hurt or worse and then you never came home, and then I would never know what happened to you? What would I do, what-"

Mello plants a firm kiss to the corner of Matt's mouth and then wraps his arms around the boy's shoulder's, pressing his face into his neck.

"Shut up and stop worrying so much you idiot. I'm never going to fucking let that happen, I know how to handle myself. You wait, I bet you I'll make it home before 6 o'clock."

Matt shivers as Mello turns the water off and squeezes his friend tighter.

"Do you swear? Swear to God so you have to do it!"

"I don't swear to God loser, that's blasphemy, but I'll swear on chocolate."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Don't you fucking know me at all? That means more than me swearing on my life!"
_

After Mello loads his gun and puts it in his holster, the one that still makes Matt's stomach churn if he looks at it to longs, he wanders around the apartment and it reminds him of when he used to run out of things to do when his parents were away. Except for this time he wanted the person he was waiting for to come home, wanted it so bad that every minute that passed felt like it was half an hour. He plays every game he owns but none of them suck him into their world like they usually do. His stomach is aching but he's not hungry at all. His worry for Mello is filling him up like a large stone lodged in his gut.

He has this fear that he's going to get lost if he heads out for the city, the night in Moscow still weighing on the back of his mind, even though he knows this time the signs and directions will all be in English. But he has nothing else to do so he shoves the keys to the apartment in his pocket and heads out for a walk. He doesn't plan to go to the convenience store and buy cigarettes but it's where he ends up. He asks for the same brand of sobranie black Russians he and Mello tried together 3 years ago, not just because he's a sentimental fool but because he doesn't know what other types there are, and he doesn't want to look like an idiot in case the cashier squints at his fake ID a little harder.

When he lights up leaned against the bricks outside and the smoke fills his lungs, he swears he's sitting on his old windowsill again, it's the same feeling. The weight in his lungs dissolves the one in his stomach, takes the edge right off of his anxiety so it's not as sharp, so his bones don't feel so jangly. Even though the first few drags send him into a coughing fit, the burning can't beat the lightheaded bliss. He chain smokes his way till three, all the while thinking that if Mello catches a whiff of it on his clothes he's going to kill him, will make good on that old promise. It will serve him right for making me wait up for him all day; he should have to fret over my wellbeing too.

"Hey dude, would you mind if I bum a smoke?"

Matt looks up from fumbling with his lighter, that's the one thing he can't get the hang of, to take in the person standing in front of him. She's taller than him by a whole head, and she's got curly red and sort of messy hair, orange in shade compared to his auburn, and brown freckles practically covering her whole face. Her brown eyes seem to be challenging him to deny her, especially since he has to look up at her to meet them. She's wearing a blue and black plaid button up t-shirt and littler black shorts and she's kind of chubby, but mostly when he can look away from her gaze Matt notices her bare dirty feet.

"Uh yeah sure, here." He replies distractedly and digs into the packet to hand her one, lighting it for her first. To his surprise she catches it with her lips instead of her fingers.

"Black russians huh, are you some sort of rich boy?"

Matt laughs nervously. "No not all."

"Good, I wouldn't want to bum one of a rich person, their so judgemental."

"Are you homeless?" Matt was thinking it because of her dishevelled appearance but he had never planned on letting the words leave his mouth. But she didn't seem to mind; in fact she sort of looked a little flattered.

"Nah, I just don't like shoes, it feels nice to have the bare earth on your feet. You should try it sometime. I'm Andrea." She says reaching out to shake his hand.

"Uh I'm Matt... Matthew yeah."

He doesn't even know why he gives himself a nonexistent full name, but something about her intense stare is making him lose his train of thought.

"Matthew, that's kind of old fashioned huh, I like it. Do you live around here?" She asks.

"Yeah, in an apartment building nearby." Mello would murder him if he told anyone exactly where, it would be a breach in security. Andrea lets out a loud laugh, deeper than Matt expected.

"Well there are thousands of those. You look kind of young to be living on your own. I'm 18, and I just bought my first flat, just around the corner you know that short little retro looking building? I've lived in LA all my life but I couldn't stand living with my parents another day. They're republican assholes."

Matt hasn't spoken to a child or teenager with parents since before he went to Wammy's, and for some reason it makes him feel a little uncomfortable.

"Oh I'm 18 too! My best friend and I just decided to move out so we decided to split the rent. We're from... Boston." He says uncertainly.

"Huh you look younger than that, and you don't have an accent. But I guess it's just me making assumptions to think that everyone from there must. So you're almost like a tourist here huh? Do you want me to show you around? I have an audition tomorrow but I can spare today, I should take a break so I don't get too stressed."

"Uh yeah okay. I don't have anything going on either. An audition huh?"

"Yeah it's for a stupid little shampoo commercial. I know it's kind of corporate but they do dig redheads, and everyone has to start somewhere. I want to act in indie films."

"Indie films?" Everything she said felt slightly foreign to him. When was the last time he had a real conversation with someone close to his age that wasn't Mello or a Wammy's kid?

"Yeah you know, little independent projects? Films with real meaning. Maybe we could watch one at the theater down town later if you're up to it."

"Um sure okay. I think that would be fun."

And it was sounding fun if scary to Matt. It sounded like a true beginning to a fresh start, getting to know this strange city around him and its inhabitants. He would still be helping Mello with all of his plans to catch Kira of course, would still stay right by his side the whole way through, but wasn't he allowed to have something that was his too? Like a new friend, someone to keep him company and keep his mind occupied so he wouldn't have to feel so tense all the time. Things with Mello were always either fully action packed or entirely empty, and now he was forced to play the waiting and worrying game, but why should he have to? He had never thought that he had needed anything in his life that didn't directly revolve around Mello, but maybe now he would since his best friend was going to be so busy all the time. He could keep busy too he thought, he owed himself that sort of distraction. Anyways, it would be harmless.
_

They never make it to the theater since when sunset and 6 o'clock approaches Matt tells Andrea that he has to go home and cook dinner, but Matt is sure he has walked the entirety of LA barefoot. He regrets letting Andrea take them off and put them in her canvas purse, wishes he would have argued her that he wouldn't be able to absorb the energy from the earth but rather the burning sensation of the sun fried concrete and asphalt. But here he is with his black and sore soles protesting as he paces around on the cool kitchen tiles, placing the pizza he heated in the oven on the table along with the chocolate covered strawberries and raisins he bought for Mello to snack on, figuring that he has to sneak in a bit of nutrition in the boys diet where he can.

Still , although Andrea sometimes lost him in the conversation he still had to admit enjoyed being out in the sunshine for a change as well as having new company, even if he did still find himself worrying about Mello. He liked that she held his hand when they walked together and how she carried oranges and apples around in her bag which they stopped and sat right down in the grass to snack on. He liked how open and honest she was, told him so many details about her life and didn't seem affronted by any questions he asked about them. While she did seem a bit idealistic and foolish, she seemed genuine in her everything she said, or at least she truly believed she was. She carried herself almost as confidently as Mello, and while she was intimidating, she didn't seem to judge anything he said. It was refreshing.

But now he's on the edge again, hovering near the door once the table is set, eyeing it so closely that when it finally bangs open he jumps practically a foot in the air. In comes Mello with a black garbage bag slung over his shoulder and a grimace on his face. Matt's happy to see that glare that he can't stop himself from running forward to embrace him, before pulling back not only from Mello shrugging him off, but from the smell clinging to him, the smell of blood that's still fresh in Matt's memory.

"Well, what happened?" He asks.

"What do think fucking happened? I did it! Just like I said and it's 5:45 right? So I'm a man of my word, open up the freezer instead of just standing around would you?"

Matt does, but catches the corner of the tightly tied bag before Mello can completely lower it in.

"Wait, what's in there?"

"A fucking chicken wing Matt, what do you think?! No don't open it you dumbass!"

Matt's already staring down in to the dark plastic. He can make out the shape of a hand, and the stink.

"Fuck," he whispers, before vomiting on the hardwood floor, almost slamming his fingers shut in the freezer as he closes it on his way to kneeling.

"Oh shit Matty, I told you not to! Ugh, I'll get the mop just go brush your teeth and sit down somewhere okay."

Matt listens this time around, even though his limbs are shaky and his vision blurry from the tears in his eyes, slumps down at the kitchen table. With the taste of toothpaste clinging to his tongue he's not hungry anymore, shoves the pizza Mello dishes him when he's done wiping up the floor far away from him.

"That's... the dude you killed right?" Mello nods. "Fuck Mells, I thought you were just going to shoot him not hack him into little pieces with a chain saw!"

"I did shoot him, and I didn't use a fucking chain saw but I needed proof for Rod Ross and his gang that I was the one who took him out for them to truly take me seriously. Fuck Matt, he was already dead, does it really make a difference?"

Matt watches Mello shoving strawberries in his mouth like their the last chocolate containing foods on earth and his upper lip curls in disgust.

"I just don't understand how you managed to stomach that I-"

"Hey! Hey have you been smoking?!"

"What? No why do you think that?" Matt asks nervously.

"Don't you dare fucking lie to me do you think I don't know what cigarettes smell like, it's fucking all over your clothes!" Mello exclaims, getting up from his seat to stomp around the table to grab the collar of Matt's shirt and pull him close to his face and inhaling. "Damn it! You fucking promised me that you were never going to do that again, do you want fucking lung cancer?!"

"Oh like you're allowed to lecture me on health with your diet and when you fucking murdered someone and cut them up to bits today?!"

"What does fucking cutting someone up have to do with it?! At least I never lie to you, I told you I had to kill him and we've already been over this, it's not fucking murder he was shitscum! He's probably murdered and done countless other things to people! I'm doing what needs to be done to avenge L."

"So you'll sink to any level you have to in order to accomplish that right? Levels L wouldn't dare sink to, in fact you know who you remind me of more than L right now?"

"Oh fuck no, don't you dare say-"

"Kira-"

The word is barely out before Mello's fist meets his nose. Matt feels his body crash from the chair and onto the floor, his already sick stomach flipping. His mind catches up to his body faster than he thought possible and he's raising his hands to block Mello's quick knuckles and aiming a kick to his friend's groin. All he gets in a groan as Mello just keeps landing strikes to his face and neck through the pain. Matt doesn't catch a break until he manages to elbow Mello's windpipe before kicking him off of him, landing a punch to Mello's eyes so he feels even before sprinting away to bedroom and then the bathroom and locking the door. But Mello recovers quickly and soon he's pounding on it. Matt leans his back up against it, panting and grabbing a wash cloth to plug the blood from pouring from his sore and possibly broken nose.

"Open this door right now you fucking coward!"

"You know what psycho I don't think I will!"

"I'll knock it down Matt I fucking swear!"

"Oh go huff and puff somewhere else you big tit!"

That earns a particularly hard slam against the door that sends him rocking forward, but it doesn't fall off its hinges. After what seems like ages the pounding stops and Matt hears something hit the floor, knows Mello is sitting on the opposite side of the door with his back pressed against it just like him, probably wondering how they're going to fix this too. They had plenty of scraps back in Wammy's, had even came to blows before, but Matt had never felt so vicious, like he had actually wanted to hurt him, to make him feel as hurt as he felt. He felt like Mello was pulling away from him, like ever since they left Wammy's and didn't have its restrictions placed on them anymore that he was morphing into a person that wasn't his best friend. Like he was doing it willingly too, putting just enough space between him and Matt so he didn't know him anymore while all the time making him close enough to do what he wanted by smoothing any complaints he had over with little kisses, little touches that Matt wasn't sure if he was the only one into or not. Neither of them were the type of people to admit they were wrong and apologize easily, but Matt sure as hell didn't feel like he wanted to be the one to do it tonight.

"Why are there black footprints all over the fucking floor?" Mello grumbles, finally breaking the silence.

"Oh. I went for a big walk to day, explored the city like you said. I think I know it pretty well now."

"And a fucking gnome stole your shoes?"

"Something like that." That shuts him right up for a few moments. Matt's never vague like Mello is, answers every question he's asked in detail.

"Did I break your nose? You should let me look at it, if we don't fix it if it is you'll look fucking uglier than before."

"I don't want to look at you, I'll throw up again."

"Then close your eyes dumb ass. Unlock the door." Matt sighs but does. He doesn't want to wait in here all night, doesn't have the energy to prove that sort of point. And he does want to look at Mello, wants to see if the blue fires of his eyes are burning low again and if they're okay. They have to be okay.

Mello lifts his chin once he steps in front of him, pulls the bloody cloth away and exchanges it for a clean one he wets in the sink and wiping away the dried crust gently, so it barely stings.

"Mhmph, I think it's safe to say you won't need any plastic surgery, too bad because then we'd really be true LA citizens."

Matt can't help it, he cracks up laughing because of how serious Mello sounds before groaning because the movement hurts his nose. Mello smiles and leans down to kiss him, still avoiding hitting the sore spots but managing to do it roughly, shifting Matt so that he's straddling his legs and holding him under his arms, fingers gently rubbing his rib cage. Matt knows he's being taken in again, knows that Mello is using the kiss to get him to forgive him but he finds that both his heart and his groin are making it impossible for him to care. He gets lost in it, wrapping himself tightly around Mello's waist and neck and passing his tongue into Mello's mouth, which the boy lets him do before forcing it out with his own and biting down on Matt's lip who sighs pressing his legs tighter. He can feel Mello's grin as he runs his mouth over Matt's jaw and down his neck, biting there too as his hands find their way under Matt's shirt to trace his sides, before he hits a forming bruise that causes Matt's groan of pleasure to one of pain. He pulls back then to Matt's extreme disappointment. Things were getting further than they usually did.

"Fuck you bruise easy, I didn't even think I got you there."

"Hey I got in some shots of my own too! You've got my hand on your cheek." Matt laughs, tracing the outline.

"Well I don't fucking care, at least we'll look roughed up to meet the mafia tomorrow."

"So I'm coming now huh?"

"Well I guess it would be easier for you to help me with the hacking stuff if you know what's going the fuck on. But you have to act like you're just my lackey okay, they can't know there's anything else between us."

What is between us? Matt doesn't think he should push his luck and actually ask. He's gotten far enough that Mello changed his mind about not letting him come and that he won't have to spend another day like this one waiting up for him and worrying. As fun as it turned out, he'd rather keep an eye on Mello, to make sure that the mafia doesn't change him into something he's not, something he's kind of scared he already has the potential inside him to become. But it seemed like he was going to have to keep waiting for the day Mello was ready to answer that question. To just keep quiet and enjoy the little bits and pieces he caught until that day came. He tries to convince himself that it's not so bad, that he can live without the answer and that he'll be satisfied with the way their friend ship is without it. But the truth is he's not so sure how long he can wait. Mello's patience might be worse, but tonight when he told Mello he was like Kira he could feel his wearing thin. He's stretching himself out, stretching himself so he can live with every decision Mello makes that he doesn't agree with, every compromise so he can justify staying with him and loving him without getting as much in return to himself. He never knew how hard it was to be the supporting character. It's the toughest role to play.