Long time no see. And of course, that's my fault, blah blah blah. At least I warned you I would be a while in updating this time!
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or any of its characters.
Enjoy.

It had been two days since Mello and Matt had stared, bewildered, at her very prominent scar. Already she could feel the stubble of her wild hair beginning to come out, much like how she could remember her foster father's chin being after a week without shaving. She was still immobile on the sofa, living off her cup ramen and murky water that didn't ever look quite right in the dim glass. The sofa was like a prison to her now and her broken bones were her binds. She couldn't even begin to enjoy any conversation that the two men who dodged around her had to offer. Instead of trying to strike up conversation where possible to fill up her monotonous days and sleepless nights, she stared emptily at the wall in front of her, even though it had nothing to offer. Her mind wandered off into the depths of no return, carted by her boredom into the land where even the worst was possible. She felt too fragile in the real world, this one was infinitely more safe. She couldn't die here.

The older men watched her with growing apprehension, still undecided on what to do. Knowing they had to provide, they sacrificed some cup ramen each day to her to keep her alive, but presented her with nothing more than the bare minimum. Underneath the tough façade they were wary and unsure, their confidence wavering on the brink of falling into dark, uninviting waters. Matt was well aware of the stubble on the girl's head but never brought it up, seeing the way she would run a hand over it every other minute. In fact, he could also see the way she could only use one hand. The other hand didn't look like it would ever be in good working condition again. She didn't even seem to notice anymore, anyway, she was too far gone. All three of the messy house's inhabitants expected this to be for the best.

Her bruises were turning yellow and light brown colours, and her scabs were beginning to peel, but the pain hadn't even began to fade, seeming to be ever present like the blank look in her eyes as she stared at the wall for yet another day. The sun was slowly beginning to rise but she hadn't slept that night, much like the last couple of nights, and the wall hadn't become any more interesting than the first hour, yet still she stared, lifeless. A phone had been left, closed over, on the collapsed arm of the sofa, but not once had it rang. She supposed it may have and she hadn't noticed, but even so, it would make no difference to her. It wasn't her phone, but she would answer it if it rang. Her current guardians, as she thought of them, hadn't made contact with her since she had shaved her head apart from brief reports on the news and the weather and the short encounters where the redhead would enter the room to give food and drink and help her to the bathroom. He only helped her to the bathroom twice a day and it was lucky she wasn't drinking a lot or she might have left some stains of her own on the ruined sofa.

Neither Matt or Mello had risen yet and it was coming on five in the morning, the clock on the phone her only indicator. Humming tunelessly under her breath she felt herself slumping forward exhaustedly, feeling her focus on the wall phase in and out. She fell asleep, slumped over, treacherously close to falling of the sofa and upsetting her damaged body. She didn't even realise she was asleep, her reality and the dream world mixing, the line between them blurred.

Fountains of blood flowed down the crumbling walls, spurting by the litre from the people who let out tortured screams as they were pulled to shreds from the inside out. Crazed eyes followed her pleadingly, begging her to help them, but she could do nothing for fear of being killed herself. Sharp yellowing bloodied teeth snarled and snapped at her as she got too close to their prey, gnarled hands scrabbled and clawed at her, trying to get a hold of yet another meal. The smell of death, stagnant and repulsive, filled her nose as the screams, whimpers, cries and curses echoed in her mind, never leaving. Savage, starving eyes watched her curiously, snapped necks letting the half severed heads loll onto their crushed, bitten shoulders. Bent and broken bodies crawled after her while stiff and ripped half dead men and women stumbled at her, begging for help. The people seemed to pounce from thick black tar, out onto her, but none could grasp her. It was hellish, being so close to being taken, and only just being missed. A torturous mind game that had her body shifting in an ungraceful, pained and broken dance, pulling her harshly through the motions.

She tripped slightly and huge pains flew up her leg, and she yelped dejectedly, her binds suddenly broken as she fell to the bloody floor, limbs and organs being thrown every which way above her head. From the tar people's upper bodies jumped through, seemingly detached from their legs and hips ,trying to battle away the thick force field so they could grab her but again something seemed to hold them back. That is, until she let out a tiny sob and pushed herself back as one of those things came very close to her face. She was engulfed in darkness and already could feel the gnarled hands pulling at her skin.

~Line~

In the next room, where Matt and Mello slept on separate beds, tossing and turning, their dreams disrupted by each other's short grunts and whines at the disturbing images rolling through their own private worlds. Shivers wracked Matt's body and Mello was clenching his fists around the duvet roughly and tugging at it, breaking the stitches relentlessly. They were so deep in sleep that they didn't hear the small creak of the window being unlatched from the outside and slid upwards, or feel the cooling breeze. The breeze, if anything, let them slip deeper into their dreams and calmed their convulsing bodies, the air cool on their sweat coated skin. The redhead, who's bed was closer to the window, whined softly in his sleep as a clammy hand fell on his shoulder, holding him to his mattress. He thrashed violently, waking up due to the sharp movements, and found his eyes boring into a pair of beady, watery green eyes, but before he could make a noise a piece of soaked cloth was smothering his mouth and nose, forcing him to breath in the sharp scent it gave off. He felt his consciousness fading, but before he passed out, he uttered one word to rouse his blonde companion.
"Mels…" He spoke in the sort of voice a child uses when they wake up from a nightmare and are just beginning to remember it. The quivering, scared voice of a small boy. His eyes squeezed shut as darkness descended on him, the terrors from his childhood infesting his troubled dreams.

Silver blonde hair was spread out on a grey lumpy pillow, tangled and matted from a restless sleep. When his eyes opened, he frowned in slight confusion. He had heard Matt speak his name in a childish, fearful voice, and it had awoken him. But it wasn't morning, no light met his eyes. The redhead would never wake him up before morning. He rolled over to look at his friend, and choked back a surprised gasp as he saw the gamer being gagged, blindfolded and bound, curled up in a shivering, tearful ball on his bed, asleep but having a horrible nightmare. He watched, immobile, as his companion was pulled from his bed in his striped top and a pair of navy pyjama trousers, skinny limbs limp. Just as he gathered his wits, the smoker was yanked out the window, into the night. Mello yelled angrily, grabbing his gun from under his pillow and jumping up from his bed, pointed it at the remaining man, jabbing it sharply into his chest.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He snarled, looking into the dark brown eyes of the man before him.
"Following orders." The man snapped back, withdrawing a gun from his back pocket, the stubble on his chin quivering as he spoke. The gun was pointed at the blonde's head. "Shoot me and I'll shoot you. An eye for an eye." With this line, the scarred younger male remembered something that L had once told him when he'd kicked him.

"An eye for an eye, Mello-kun," the monotonous voice muttered, not even showing the pain being kicked in the balls caused, and before he had the chance to blink the 11 year old Mello was kicked back, and sent flying. By the time he had picked himself up off the floor, his mentor was gone.

That had to be the last time Mello had seen L face to face, alive. They hadn't even said goodbye. The anger that was brought to him with this memory pushed him over the edge and the older man before him found himself with a bullet in his stomach, and as he pulled the trigger of his own gun, the blonde had moved and kicked him hard in the knee, causing him to fall back onto the carpet. His waist length auburn hair escaped its tie and pooled around him like a fiery halo, fair skin glowing with the pallor of death. He wouldn't be alive for much longer, and felt his control on consciousness slip, his mind phasing out. He looked up at the blonde who had killed him and tried to push himself from the anger he radiated, but the pain that shot up his spine left him unable.
"What have you done with him?" The younger ground out, and the other male gritted his teeth. A leather clad hand signalled to the window that was open, taunting the intruder who knew he would never leave unless his body was thrown from the house after he was dead. As if he needed further clarification to know who 'Him' was. That redhead would be long gone now, though. A small, devilish grin graced his pained features and he let out a gravelly laugh, paying no heed to the pain.
"Oh, he's long gone now, pretty boy." He snickered, letting his gun fall from his hand.
"But you know where he's going to. So where will I find him? You'd better tell me, or I'll-"
"Or what? I'm going to die soon anyway. In a pool of my own blood. You acted too soon, pretty boy."
"You're going to die here in a pool of your own blood, and by the time anyone comes looking for you, I'll be long gone and the only thing worth anything will be that gun because you'll be rotting away." Mello snarled, stamping down hard on the man's abdomen, making him choke up blood.
"Oh, don't worry pretty boy. They'll find you soon enough." And under the scrutinizing glare of the blonde above him, he felt the last of his life leave him.

Mello didn't kill people unless he had to. He was absolutely fine with threatening and harming seriously, but killing? That was something that he didn't enjoy doing. He normally avoided it at all costs. But today, that man had just gone too far. His rash action was laughing in his face, and he realised the problem he had created for himself. He had got angry at the man on behalf of his best friend, but now because he had done so he would have a hard time getting said best friend back.
"Dammit!" He growled as he kicked over the bedside table, its contents pouring out onto the floor. He pulled on the first clothes that came to his hands, a pair of Matt's jeans and his old black long sleeved top, yanked on his leather coat and Matt's combat boots and raced from the room. He glanced around the kitchen and stormed out to the garage, yanking the keys to Matt's red corvette from the hook. He wouldn't take his motorbike tonight. They would know whose car was who, and by taking Matt's there would be some confusion of identity. Climbing into the leather seat, he started up the engine and drove off into the night.

He didn't notice that he had left his phone at the base. Nor did he remember that there was a wounded young girl lurching over the edge of the sofa in her sleep in his living room.

~~Line~~

The nightmare had unfurled and after a particularly gruesome death of a number of people she had known, her spine straightened out and her head snapped up, nails digging into her thighs, her eyes flying open. Panting, she sat up slowly, the aches in her back protesting. Shaking her head and rubbing her watering eyes, she pushed her hair from her face and checked the mobile for the time. It was coming on six now, the sun rising and tinting everything orange. A large bang had roused her from her dream and she heard a sort of commotion in the next room. The garage door opened and then all the sound stopped. She waited with baited breath for more signs of life, but nothing came. Relaxing back into the sofa she waited for the suspicious stares of her two guardians to find her in her usual position, but nothing came. Frowning, she shrugged and picked up the phone, which had lit up on its own.

An aggravating ringing noise began to play from it, and she checked for caller ID as she flipped it open. Unknown Number? Biting her lip, she pressed accept and brought the small phone to her ear and waited to hear who was calling them.
"Uh..Hello?" She spoke uncertainly, sure that this would be a prank call.
"Hello, who is this?" A filtered voice came through the line.
"This is Jet Harrows. Who is this?"
"This is the SPK. We're looking for a man called Mello. You may know him?"
"Yes, he should be here somewhere" She took the phone away from her ear as she called for the blonde, and frowned as there was no reply. "Uh… Give me a moment, please, I need to go look for him."
"That is unnecessary. Jet Harrows, you were recently on the news, being held hostage by a gang of thugs, and did not die when Kira was supposedly meant to kill you."
"Yes, that's me. What of it?"
"We are in need of assistance, do you have any idea where we would find Mello?"
"No, I'm sorry. I can go and check in his room for you if you like."
"No, we can do that. Where is your base?" Her heart began to beat faster and she frowned.
"Why do you need this information?"
"We have received information that Mello and Matt are no longer at your base, whereas you obviously are. We don't know why they left so suddenly but there have been reports of a red corvette driving through the city recklessly. We have come to understand that this is Matt's vehicle, correct?"
"Uh, yes…?"
"So where is your base?"
"I'm not sure if I should be giving you this information."
"It is of high importance that we are given this information, Miss Harrows."
Growling at the use of her surname, she leaned back and considered her options.
"The base is situated in the alleyways of the city. I hope you can find it with that piece of information as I have no more to give. It should be the 4th alley on the right along the downtown main road."
"Thank you, Miss Harr-"
"Jet."
"Thank you Jet. We will be there shortly."

A shiver ran down her spine as the line had gone dead. Could it honestly be true that Matt and Mello had left her here to die, vulnerable and fragile, still healing? Surely not…Surely they could have left a note on the table by the sofa, or Mello would have taken his phone? Unless there had been a rush… She had heard the commotion through in the next room. But she had a lot more faith in the two males than that, even if it was irrational.
Something was going on here, and she was going to find out what.

I tried to make it a decent length for you all to make it up, but I couldn't make it too long or I'd give too much of the plot away.
So we're at a dramatic part of the story!
Who kidnapped Matt, where's Mello going, what's going to happen to Jet? Hm... Well, yeah. I know the answers. You don't.
Please excuse any spelling and grammatical errors, I did check it over quickly but I'm in a rush.
Reviews are welcome, I do love reading them!
I may be a while in updating again, seeing as a very busy few weeks of school are coming up. I'll be in Amsterdam for a week then I'm getting my new timetable (3 sciences, art and history. I'm going to be very busy)

Thanks for reading!
Lara~x