AN: This is us apologizing for not updating since July. This is also us hoping that we still have readers out there. We kinda suck. But if you're still here and reading, welcome back, and thank you. We're trying to get into a most frequent writing session mode, so if all goes according to plan, we should actually have another chapter up in the next week. Leather has been having writer's block, and Stripes has been having a mid-mid-life crisis of sorts about her job and where she is in life. BUT we're trying to get all better and will definitely not take this long to update again.
In a perfect world, this chapter would be longer, but after going through it repeatedly over the course of the past few weeks, I think it's good where it is, and the next parts should be bunched together. Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual, the next chapter is going to be massive.
You are all amazing, thank you so much for your patience with us!
Cheers!
Leather and Stripes
.:Chapter 25:.
"Wide Awake"
xxx
Mello had been standing at the door for ten minutes, knuckles hovering over the wood. It was just Matt, just his gamer, laying alone in his bed, possibly asleep, but he probably hadn't even closed his eyes. He frowned to himself. If Matt had been awake all night, it was Mello's fault. He brought Matt into something horrible and...
He needed to grow a pair. Mello formed a fist, a deep sigh leaving him before he knocked quietly on the door. "Matt?" he called softly, slumping against the frame, knuckles still poised to knock again. "Matt, are you awake? I, uh, made breakfast, if you're hungry..."
It had been a nightmare of a night, drifting in and out of sleep, waking at every single creak or random sound of the night. Matt's eyes itched with a redness induced from lack of sleep, his mouth dry and lips in dire need of water. Fear etched his form as he frowned at the voice coming from the other side of the door.
His nails dug into the palm of his hand as he pushed himself off the bed. Matt was still conflicted. He was torn between running far away to hide in a cave, or staying here and believing the words Mello said last night.
With a small huff, he opened the door and offered a troubled smile. "I could use food."
The blond stared at Matt for a moment before dropping his eyes and taking a step back. "That's good. I made quite a bit, actually...seeing as you didn't...eat last night. I thought you might be hungry," he offered quietly, taking a step toward the living room.
A hand reached out, fingers curling around the soft skin of Mello's wrist.
"We're going to be okay." Matt's voice was gente; it was almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than Mello.
He offered a small smile, relishing the warmth of Matt's hand against his skin. "It's nice to hear you say that."
It was strained for a moment, the smile on his lips, but after letting go of Mello it grew a tiny bit stronger. "So, first up on the agenda is breakfast, then we talk about how to keep my bacon out of the frying pan."
"Did you really just say that?" Mello chuckled, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a plate. "You're a little awful. You know that, right?"
"I am shocked at your implication." The redhead took a seat at the table, his back to the wall. "Could you pour me a glass of OJ while you're up?"
"Sure," Mello set the plate down before opening the refrigerator and pulling out a carton. "How did you sleep?"
"I'm a vampire, Mel, I don't sleep."
Blue eyes narrowed at the gamer. "Matt, I'm serious."
"As am I, it's a serious plight that I've been burdened with. I also can never eat garlic bread and stare at myself and primp in mirrored surfaces."
Mello snorted, setting down the plate and glass in front of Matt. "Right, how foolish of me to notice this just now."
"Don't you feel silly for wearing crosses around me now?" Matt plucked a piece of toast off his plate and took a small bite.
"A little. They don't really seem to be keeping you away, though. Maybe they're busted." he propped his head on his hand, tracing his finger over the wood grain.
"It takes faith to keep me at bay, I think." And with that small jab, Matt's stomach sunk. How could Mello actually have faith when his job was to murder people? His features paled as he felt the bile in his throat. Quickly he took a large drink of his OJ, attempting to wash down any and all emotions threatening to surface.
Mello's jaw tightened, purposely keeping his eyes trained on the table.
He felt the words leave before he could stop them, something like word vomit. "I guess you aren't as religious as you lead on, huh?"
Mello's fingers flexed against the wood. "I guess I deserve that."
"What else?" He asked, his eyes narrowed a fraction, "What else was a lie?"
"That's not a lie, Matt."
The gamer huffed loudly, "Oh yeah, I bet. Excuse me sir? May I cap your ass quickly? Why? Well, I have Sunday Mass, you see, God wouldn't like me being late." He rolled his eyes, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth.
"Again, I deserve that," he murmured, eyes rising to look at Matt across the table. "I said it wasn't a lie, I never said I wasn't going to Hell."
"You..." His lips drew in a scowl before he threw his fork back down, clattering on the table. "This is beyond hypocritical! I've met a lot of blokes who do bad things and claim they believe in…fuck, any religion, but…to willingly damn yourself in the eyes of the God you worship? What makes a man do that?"
"I was already damned, Matt. Already going there whether or not I...my profession has nothing to do with it."
"Wow, religion just keeps getting better and better." Taking a deep breath he waved his hand at the blond. "Rest assured, blondie, you aren't damned to shit. I hate to break your little self loathing bubble, but there is no God. Religion is just a bunch of people clinging to a belief that there is something more out there. But you know what? There's stuff out there, but none of it is a guy sitting on a golden throne wearing a dress! It's space, it's dark matter, it's dying stars and super novas."
A weak, sad chuckle echoed in the back of Mello's throat. "Well, there you go," he sighed, closing his eyes. "So ask me. Ask me anything."
Matt's hands slammed against the table with such force his glass almost fell over. "GET MAD! I just insulted your GOD! Get mad at me! You want me to ask something? Why is it when you should be angry with me, when I say something out of line, hell, even when I punch you, you BARELY show anything? I want to know why you handle me with kiddy gloves! I know I'm on death's door right now, I know I'm truly fucked. So take off the gloves, Mello. Treat me like a person!"
"Oh, shut up," Mello sat back in his chair, eyes narrowed. "I'm trying to be civil and not fly off the handle because shit, really Matt? You've got every right to be crying like a little bitch and running for the hills, or to yell and scream and beat the shit out of me, but, instead, you're eating bacon that I COOKED FOR YOU," he pushed his chair out, standing and heading for the kitchen. "I'm giving you a chance to act like a fucking little prick and you're mad that I'm not mad at you?"
"Pretty much, yes." The redhead frowned as he watched the blond cross the room. Something had shifted in Mello's personality and all Matt could think was 'Ah, this is the real him.'
"I don't want fake. I don't want kiddy gloves. I want to know who you actually are."
"I am exactly who you've seen this whole time, Matt. I didn't think I had to be an asshole with you, but apparently that's what you want. You want that, baby? You want to meet the Mello that works in a shitty bar and breaks up bar fights, gets shot, and kills people for a living?" Mello's hand gripped the countertop, knuckles going white.
Matt fixed him with a pointed look, his head tilting. "Yes. Because if I don't see that side of you, I don't know you. It's a lie if you only show someone parts of you."
"It's not a lie!" his voice rose, echoing against the polished kitchen. "Just because I chose to omit some of my less than perfect mood swings doesn't mean I'm hiding shit from you. Maybe, if you took a damn second to think about this whole thing, you'd realize that maybe I wanted you to like me!"
"If I didn't like all of you, it wouldn't be worth it!"
"Fuck you, Matt," Mello spat, turning back to the kitchen and ripping open the refrigerator.
Matt snarled, knocking the chair over as he jumped out of his seat. He stalked into the kitchen in a few quick strides, slamming the refrigerator shut. "No! Fuck you!"
"Are you really just a glutton for punishment? You want to piss me off that much?!" He shoved Matt back against the refrigerator, several small magnets clattering to the ground. "Do you realize what I do for a living, Mail?"
A wicked smirk stretched the corners of his lips, his eyes daring Mello to do something. "I'm not in the dark anymore, Mel. I know exactly what you do, and I'm saying I don't give a shit. What? Changed your mind? Going to kill me now?"
Matt's back hit the refrigerator hard, his head slamming back against the brushed metal with a loud thunk. "Is that what you want?" Mello hissed, hands clamping over Matt's biceps, nails digging into the skin. "You want me to splatter your fucking brilliant brain all over my kitchen? Would that satisfy you, to know that you've been fucking a monster?" His breath raked over Matt's face, their noses almost touching, "Because you know I am. You've seen what I did."
A few things bounced around in Matt's addled brain, the fact that Mello had called him brilliant hadn't escaped him, for one. The second was that even at Mello's heightened anger, he didn't feel afraid of him. In fact, he felt inappropriately aroused at the situation. He should lie and tell Mello he didn't think he was a monster for what he had done, he should comfort him and tell him he understood. But he does neither, because they'd be lies, and he'd be a terrible hypocrite if he chose now to lie to him.
Instead Matt schooled his face and darted his eyes to the side, his lips turning downward at the corners. "That isn't what I meant and you know it. I want to feel like this is real, Mello. If you never get mad, never show who you are to me, how do I know any of it is real? Bloody hell, Mel, just yesterday I thought you were on the up and up, and now your ledger is so red it's dripping."
The redhead took a breath, his eyes drifting slowly to the man pinning him against the cold metal. "I just need us to be honest. I need us to be who we are, I can't lie anymore. My hands are painted in the blood of a man I didn't even know, I can barely get up out of bed without wanting to vomit. The weight of his life is now on me, mate, and the idea that you've been doing this for…fuck, who knowshow long? The weight has to be unbearable." They locked eyes, Matt's hand moving upward to brush the pads of his fingers against Mello's cheek.
"We've got to be honest now."
Mello's grip softened, fingers gentle against the redhead's arms. "Even...even now you're still..." he started, eyes glancing away. "What happened that night is still...?"
"Of course." Green eyes darkened at the memory, "I'll never forget, it'll stay with me forever. It isn't every day I kill a man, Mello. It isn't in me to do that, I'm strictly hands off, I'm the one in the shadows, I don't do hands on." He swallowed, his voice a bit rough, "I'm…not you."
He took a step away, hands shaking as they fell away from the other. "That's me. Hands on. Hands dirty, dripping." Mello finally looked at Matt, shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of his words and his stare.
Matt aborted the motion, realizing his hand had been moving on its own. Instead of placing his fingers over Mello's shoulder to comfort him, he held his place against the metal. The lifted hand curled in to a fist before he slammed it back against the refrigerator. "If you hate it so much, why do it? Why do you help these thugs? I can't wrap my mind around why..?"
"Necessity? Not wanting to end up dead in the middle of the ocean," he twisted the material of his pant leg in his pale fingers, a little sigh leaving his lips with a halfhearted shrug. "Because I'm a coward, maybe. Maybe that whole you're-in-it-for-life thing where they kill you if you try to live a normal life."
The gamer huffed out a laugh before pushing off the fridge, walking right in to Mello's space he jammed a finger in his face. "That's full of bollocks and you know it. I can smell the bullshit from a mile away, if you don't want me privy to the real answer fine." He turned on his heel and walked back toward the table, "At least have the dignity to lie better."
"Matt, I-"
The phone on the counter top between them buzzed to life, the jarring sound of plastic vibrating against granite cutting off the rest of Mello's sentence. He stared at the small device, feeling Matt's eyes on him.
"Bloody good timing that one has." Matt chimed with a humorless laugh, "I wonder who that could be?" The ginger tipped his OJ back, taking a long drink before plunking it back down on the table loudly. "Well, Sweeney Todd, gonna answer it?"
His eyes narrowed at the other before lifting the phone from the counter, glancing at the caller ID.
Unknown.
Mello allowed his eyes to meet Matt's as he flipped the phone open, holding it to his ear. "Hello?" The blond held his stare from across the counter, eyes unblinking as he listened to the other end. He paled ever so slightly, "If it's an old friend, I'd be more than happy to make it." A pause. "I'd send it Flat Rate. Ciao." Mello snapped the phone shut, slamming it on the counter.
The redhead rolled his eyes as he popped a piece of bacon in to his mouth, he watched the blond deflate from across the room as he chewed slowly. "And boom goes the dynamite."
"That was to set up a meeting..." he said more to himself than the man across the room.
"A meeting to talk about how to gank me I assume? The very one Agent Puff-and-Stuff told me about?"
"I'm not going to do it, Matt."
"Oh, but you have to." Matt leaned back on the chair, waving his hand as he clarified. "Not kill me, but go to the meeting. We have to know how they want it done, right?"
"That's what I meant," he mused, tapping his fingers against the counter top. "It's on Tuesday."
"That only gives us two days to think of a suitable way to kill me without killing me, if they ask you that is. What with you being the Dennis Rader of your little merry men. I mean, aren't you their top guy?"
"Is that really what you think of me?"
"I saw the video, Mel. Let's not start this again."
"You saw a personal vendetta come to fruition, Matt, that's about it," Mello pushed away from the counter, going to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water. "And this is to set up terms. This is to see what they want..."
"If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, swims like a duck, it's a good chance the bloke is a duck." Green eyes watched the blond as he crossed the room, his fingers tapping the wood in a slight nervous habit. "I'll tell you what they want, they want me on a silver platter all wrapped nicely in a bow." He let out a soft breath before tapping closer to his glass, thinking about another drink.
"I'm guessing I still need to go to work on Monday, ey?"
"Yes," he took a sip from the bottle, "you need to pretend like you know absolutely nothing and that everything is fine."
"Jolly good idea, I'll waltz in and have a mini party at my desk. Maybe I'll steal all the Twinkies from the break room; sounds like something I'd do." No humor could be found in his voice, the ending of his sentence breaking off as his voice hitched. "I don't…know if I can do that, Mel." His tapping fingers stopped as he brought them to his knees, gripping the fabric he found there. "I'm scared. I'm not afraid to admit I'm scared to death over here."
He crossed the room in a few steps, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of Matt. "I meant it when I said I'd make sure nothing happened to you. I couldn't..." Mello looked down at his hands, at Matt's hands abusing his knee, "I couldn't live with myself if I did. And don't make some comment about how I shouldn't be able to anyway since...everything, but I mean it. This is..." he looked back up, Matt's eyes questioning and accusatory and forgiving all at once, "real."
Conflicting emotions waged war across the gamer's face, witty and barbed retorts on the edge of his tongue waiting to be spat back at the blond. He found himself unable to say any of them, his eyes searching for lies in Mello's words, searching those blue eyes for ill intent. He couldn't find any, all he saw was the honesty he was offering and it tightened the hold on his heart. His chest felt heavy as he lifted one of his hands from his knee, wrapping his fingers around Mello's.
"Okay." He offered, lowering his defenses, letting himself wall up all the anger and betrayal he still felt. "Okay, let's…figure this out. Together. I can be strong, but that doesn't mean I'm going to like it."
xxx