Dale: This was a request put in by Chip on the first hour of the first day of '09. The request was the following:

Write a story that includes Mello, Near, a teddy bear, and a lighter.

My first thoughts were to write something a funny lemon; however, that didn't quite pan out, especially when Chip's theory on the Wammy heirs popped into my head…So, I just had to go and make it sad and twisted… typical me, so, no surprise there, really.

It's from Mello's point of view. Read on... oh, and by the way, the title means 'heartache' in German.

Herzeleid

Why am I here?

That's the first thing I need to ask myself… or better yet,

Why am I here with you?

I have the answer to that question, but I sure as hell don't want to own up to it. Just the thought of it brings more things to mind than I can handle without losing whatever is left of my marbles. But if I don't answer to myself, I'll lose them either way.

To hell with you and cowardice….

I need to begin with the fact that I lived through the Kira case. I did it; I am a walking patch of scar tissue and shell casings, but I'm still kickin'. There were so many times that I was at death's front door, but I always found a way out… I almost can't believe it, but I made it to the end…

But at what cost? I lost a mentor, a brother, and a lover.

Quillsh. L. Matt.

Of all the people I've lost because of that goddamn case, Matt's death tears me apart the most.

Nothing hurt that much when he was still here, but now that he's gone, everything hurts. My burns hurt, my scars hurt, my bruises hurt, my head hurts, my throat hurts… my heart hurts.

Goddamnit, it all hurts. He's gone and I couldn't save him.

Everything hurts so much and I can't bear it. I always had a high tolerance for pain, but this is just way too much. My lover and best friend –my only friend--, gone, torn away, cut down, put out like a lone single caught in a twister. Dead… gone someplace where I cannot reach him.

A place where he cannot hold me. I love him, but he's dead and that's all he'll ever be from now on.

They say that death itself doesn't hurt… but that is only true for the person dying… those whom he leaves behind; those people get hurt by death.

So hurt they can no longer think right.

I think that's why I'm here with you. I must not be thinking right…

I can't be thinking right, but I desperately need the comfort of something familiar, and as much as I despise the fates for it, the only familiar thing left in this world for me is you.

Hating you is familiar, competing with you is familiar, we come from the same place and that's familiar, we looked up to the same man and that's familiar, I loved you once and while that's very much in the past, it's still familiar…

We loved the same person and it's that aspect of our familiarity that brings me to you.

You, Matt and I used to be so close; close enough to be best of friends, close enough to share ourselves with one another, close enough to be lovers, close enough to melt ourselves into each other to the point that we were one body instead of three.

While I hate your guts with all my strength now, I am willing to admit those years when we were all one entity were the best of my life.

I also admit that our bond wouldn't have been severed if I hadn't started to see you as a rival instead of the lover you were. Oh, but it wasn't just my fault… you took it upon yourself to rub your remarkable composure in my face. You dangled your superiority in front of me like bait and it made my resentment grow and grow until it became bigger and stronger than me. You liked to chastise me for my "rampant" emotions then and you still like it now. And you know that's mostly why I despise you so goddamn much.

We hurt Matty so badly with our pissing contest – because that's what it is and we both know it. Even though he never blamed either of us for breaking the bond, I know he took it very hard and he never quite recovered from that break; I'm pretty sure you could tell too. He loved us both so goddamn much and we pushed him to his limit, inadvertently making him choose between the both of us.

We hurt him so badly; we broke his heart in half, took a piece each, and never gave it back. And yet, he never resented us… still he loved us both, from a distance because that was all he could afford without hurting us.

Eventually, I dragged him to my side and I took him along with me. I used to think I had won him from you and that I was one step ahead of you, but how could I be? No matter how much I made love to him and how dedicated we were to each other, I would never get all of him, I could never claim a total victory over you. You still had a part of his heart and Matt wouldn't be complete without it, and that meant all three of us coming together again. You were a part of him and I didn't want you… so I learned to live with what was left of Matt and it kept me going.

You know that even though he left with me, he still loved you and wanted to be with you. Regardless, you were able to carry on without us, just as well as I was able without you. Hell, I was glad to carry on without you. Matt wasn't as pleased, but he learned to bear it. I know he still had hopes that maybe after the Kira case was over we would able to stop fighting one another nd return to something like what we once shared.

Your absence I could always survive… Matt's… God, let's not even go there.

But we already are.

Matt is the reason I'm here with you. You're the last living piece of Matty that remains; you're that part of him that I wanted so much, yet I refused to reach out to. You're all I have of Matty now.

I'm not here because I once loved you, but because you're the last link between Matt and I… the same goes for me in relation to your grief. You haven't taunted me tonight because I'm all you'll ever get of Matty now. You couldn't have him for years and now he's dead. In other circumstances I would be glowering over being your only hope, but not now. I can't bring myself to laugh at you…

My throat hurts too goddamn much and I can't breathe. I have a pain in my chest and I can't breathe...

Isn't it funny? We hate each other, yet we're the only ones that can we can run to for comfort in our time of need. God, it's so pathetic I can't stand it.

I'm not here to share the grief with you or make nice after bitter years of despising you with every fiber of my being. I'm here because I need the familiarity. I need the warmth that a familiar body can provide to keep the crippling cold inside my chest at bay. God knows my chest feels tight enough without the cold twisting my insides into a painful mess.

I know you feel the cold too. As dead as your eyes can seem, I know you feel cold too. I know you need that warmth as much as I do.

Matt is why we are sharing a bed once more, twining our bodies upon it in that same embrace we both renounced when we broke the bond. I despise you so much I wouldn't even share a disease with you, but here I am, abandoning my own hatred for you just so I can find a moment of solace in familiar arms.

We both know my hate for you knows no bounds, but we also know that the tightness and pliant nature of your body always made me groan and sigh. We both know I always liked the way your body felt against mine, even if the mere thought of your existence makes me want to break things.

This act is familiar because I can vividly remember the three of us tightly entwined on Matt's tiny bunk, holding and loving each other so passionately.

That was eons ago, but moving against you and inside you brings the memories back. You're not a replacement for Matt – you could never be, even if you tried –; I'm making love to you once again because we owe it to ourselves, in a way.

Matty would have wanted us to come together again. It won't happen ever again after tonight, but I'm sure he would have liked to see it.

I doubt this will bring closure, and I doubt whatever comfort this brings will last past orgasm. I expect an even bigger void to form and old and new pain to flow into it to try to fill it.

I don't know whether to fight release or surrender to it.

I don't want to hurt anymore. I want my Matty.

God, I miss him so much…

You must think I'm crying because you're leaving burns on my chest and arms with Matt's old cigarette lighter as I move above you.

As if I'd give you that pleasure.

I cry because Matt never physically hurt me. He could make me burn without resorting to your methods. All he had to do was kiss me, touch me, and tell me he loved me. I could burn for days from just one kiss… but now I am cold and desperate to find some warmth inside you, and I can't tell if I'm succeeding.

Oh, God, you must really think the angry blistered burns are hurting me; I'm sobbing so much, I can't stop shaking and howling through my tears. But the burns mean so little – I survived a fucking explosion that melted away half of my face, for fuck's sake – a few second degree burns are nothing to me. It was the wounds left behind by Matt's absence that consume me from the inside, in a place so deep I can't dig into my chest and claw the sting out.

The memories and our grief won't let us reach a climax; I know I can't… he's not here and I can't breathe. You can't either - your weak body is too exhausted to continue and the novelty of burning me has worn off. This is why we stop and I pull away from you, only to collapse at the other end of the bed, gasping for breath that just won't fill my lungs.

Maybe my lungs are filled with tears… God, I don't know. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

I hate you so damn much and I miss him so damn much. I put my grudge down, for our sanity's sake, and the first thing you do is taunt me, hurt me.

I know you don't wonder why I hate you… you know perfectly why because you push me to it.

I want to fall apart. I want to stop hurting. But my hate won't let me.

For once, that burning pit of rage you incite in me is the only thing holding me together. For once, my rampant emotions are keeping me from lying on your bed until I stop breathing.

You know, I'm glad I never learned to control my rage; it's the strength now flowing through my limbs that helps me get up and away from you.

This loathing helps me dress myself and pick up the lighter from the floor. My hate for you directs my gaze toward one of your favorite toys, the battered teddy bear you have had for as long as you've been alive; the one possession of yours that you ever cherished aside from Matt's heart.

This abhorrence I feel for you makes me smile despite my lack of will to even live; and it's this same abhorrence that urges me to pick up your teddy bear as I leave your room.

I can't believe I'm laughing right now. God knows I feel rotten inside from grief, but I'm laughing. I'm laughing so loudly, so harshly... it hurts. I ache like few things can, but still I laugh.

I've set fire to your dear teddy bear and I'm dangling the burning toy in front of you.

The flash of shock in your eyes will be enough of a memory to keep me going. Your discomfort is music to my ears and a soothing balm to the ever-bleeding wound of Matty's absence.

Call it petty, but as God is my witness, this pathetic memory of your teary eyes as the ruin of your charred stuffed animal falls to the floor will keep me alive for many nights to come when the bullets in my gun make my mouth water more than the Belgian chocolate I like so much.

A/N: I cried when I wrote this... I never do well mixing Vienna Teng's "My Medea", the Wammy boys, and holidays… I always end up writing such sad stuff that I end up making Chip and myself cry. But anyway, it was good to put my brain to work on a schedule – I wrote this in four hours… not bad for such a whimsy writer like me. Lol.

Ta-ta, Clarice… uh, I mean, readers… review if you like.

-Das Dale.