AN: OMG! An update! And a long one too. Yeah, it kinda took forever… But like I said, we have lives. Sorry.
Ok, so here's the deal: College is a time-consuming bastard but it must be done. Papers to write, exams to take, jobs to go to, you know the drill. Thus, you must understand that even though all this is a pain in the ass and we'd both much rather be delving into the intricacies of Matt and Mello's relationship and the wonderful world of angst, we kind of don't have the liberty to do that at the moment. We're incredibly flattered by everyone's interest in our work, but please understand that.
That being said, I'm afraid that after this chapter, there will be no new chapters posted until sometime after New Year. We will continue writing, but I don't think I'll get the chance to post again for a while. Yeah, schoolwork is a bitch. Blame the concept of educating the population. In any case, er, sorry this kind of ends in another cliffhanger… Oh, and also, check the end of the chapter for a personal author's note to all our reviewers! We love you all!!
And in other news, after some debate on how much both of us strongly dislike the infamous "F word," Hitoshi-chan and I have actually made the momentous decision to spell the whole thing out since really, there's hardly a difference even if we put a dash. Matt and Mello are such potty mouths. Especially Mello.
Wow, this was a long AN. Anyway, going on… Enjoy! Reread it if you must. I doubt there'll be an update before mid-January. Best wishes! - - Tora - -
The room was silent, save the soft rustle of bedcovers and quiet labored breathing. Occasionally, a muffled gasp would tear the air and fade into the dimness where the faint morning light beyond the drawn blinds couldn't quite reach through to the fitfully sleeping boy on the twisted, sweat-drenched sheets as he tossed and turned in his restless slumber, eyes squeezed tightly shut and black-polished fingernails biting into his pillow.
Nightmares raged in his head and plagued his conscience but his body did not wake, exhausted into forced sleep despite the merciless barrage.
And he watched the car swerve, tires sparking, screeching, slamming into the railing, toppling over, down into the freezing darkness, away from view, vanishing, gone…
Mello twisted violently, whispering soft incoherent moans of protest into the by-now torn pillow.
"Get the fuck out!" he screamed, grabbing the startled owner of the white Toyota while he was stopped at a red light and hauling him out of his own vehicle before the poor middle-aged businessman even realized what had hit him.
He dived into the driver's seat, flooring the gas without giving a damn the light was still red, the icy wind screaming through the broken window and whipping blonde strands into his face as he disregarded all road signs in favor of wildly scanning the riverbank.
God, oh God, he had to find him, and soon…
From somewhere far away, a distant noise was trying to reach him, but the ghastly visions refused to let the blonde go.
He swerved off the road, heart racing and pounding in his throat.
This was taking too long…
For God's sake, he'd been shot and then he'd crashed over the fucking bridge and how could he even still be alive but he HAD to be, goddammit!
And he was dashing down the riverbank, car forsaken by the roadside, searching wildly, frantically, pounding blood roaring in his ears, and he just couldn't find him!
Mello turned over, very vaguely aware of a distracting ringing pervading his troubled slumber but not strongly enough to dispel the terribly realistic vision.
Oh, God, finally, finally, there he was!
But the brief relief was utterly and completely drowned out in a miserable panicked cry at the sight.
The stench of blood and burnt rubber, crimson horror everywhere, spreading in dark pools, the pressing, crushing silence and absence of any movement save that of his own heaving chest as he froze in his tracks.
Oh, God…
And his shirt had once had white stripes but now they were deep scarlet; and his face had once been handsome and gently smirking and warm but now it was twisted and ghastly and ashen; and his body had once been strong and full of life and energy and vitality but now it was limp and broken and torn and cold; and his eyes had once been bright emerald and childishly mischievous and kind but now they were wide and staring and gray and lifeless; and his voice had once been deep and soft and velvet but now…
The corpse's lips parted, cracked and seeping black blood, and rasped out whispers of condemnation and loathing, accusation.
And it was all true and he had lost everything and he had failed and there was nothing he could do now but let the screaming cadaver drag him into eternal fiery Hell since that was what he deserved and God damn his soul forever because he was dead!!
Mello sat up with a jolt and a sharp gasp, cold sweat trickling down his scarred cheek and the ringing in his ears loud and jarring.
Wide blue eyes flashed over to the bedside table and when he slowly realized the sound wasn't imaginary, he reached out finally with faintly trembling fingers to snatch up the vexing cell phone.
His breath came heavy and harsh, the gory, lifeless corpse of a too-familiar young man floating invisibly before his vision, and Mello was suddenly glad he hadn't bothered to eat anything before dragging himself to collapse on the bed sometime around 4am this morning because his stomach was clenching violently at the agonizingly vivid images.
And then the phone rang again, high-pitched and insistent and he jumped, startled, and quickly flipped it open, calming his breath by sheer force of will to demand a little to loudly, "Hal?! You here yet?"
Hal didn't even flinch at the tone of voice Mello used, having long ago realized that working with Mello would always mean occasionally sacrificing the comfort of her ear drums, though at the moment his voice was raised but the impatient blonde was not yelling.
She and Near had arrived in New York about fifteen minutes ago, and after acquiring their bags, she had stopped suddenly, as though just realizing something, and had extracted her phone from her pocket to make a call.
She was not looking forward to relaying her news to Mello, but it had occurred to her that if she did not give him some kind of warning about Near tagging along, he would probably never trust her again.
Near stood at her side, black eyes staring absent mindedly at the cellular in her hands, before turning his gaze to a nearby window. She was sure Near had already realized the reasons behind her call and pushed down the small feeling of guilt that overcame her when she realized that in essence, what she was doing was warning Mello of Near's presence.
An act that spoke volumes of the fragile and bitter relationship between the two geniuses, but was necessary regardless.
She pulled her wandering mind back from her thoughts, keeping one eye trained on Near to assure his safety as she answered Mello's question.
"Yes, I'm here, I just landed a few minutes ago, and should be seeing you in about an hour or so… but Mello, you need to know, Near is with me."
She paused, resisting the urge to bite her lip in apprehension as she waited for the explosion to come.
Mello froze, back rigid, and stared at the wall in mild shock.
FUCK.
Cold anger and burning loathing boiled up within his chest and the gritting of his teeth was audible even on the phone line.
Near? NO! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. FUCK.
"Hal…" The name was whispered threateningly through clenched teeth as something close to panic, of a different sort than earlier, made his heart jump into his throat.
NEAR was coming? Near was going to come and see him like… like this?! And he was going to see his failure and he would ask questions and stare at him with those fucking empty eyes of his as if he were goddam evaluating everything and he wasn't a human being at all…
Mello LOATHED that vacant stare which tried to peel him away layer by layer and leave his rawest self bare for speculation. He absolutely abhorred the way the younger boy regarded him as if he were just a specimen, in the same way he regarded the whole world, as if everyone was something he was trying to dissect with those fucking depthless voids in his eye sockets. It made Mello want to cringe away and punch him in the face at the same time.
And now he could just imagine those empty orbs boring into his head and sneering at him for being so pathetic and wretched and… human.
No fucking way.
He was NOT going to just let Near come shuffling in with his unsightly goddam pajamas and watch him with those blank eyes and twirl that piece of fucking hair around his damn white little finger as he fucking assessed and speculated and pondered.
Like hell.
Mello knew himself well enough to be certain he could not stand the vile little creature's presence at a time like this. And he knew Near well enough to know that he would push his company on him anyway, testing, probing, and damn well knowing exactly how much Mello hated him and probably taking some sick pleasure in putting him off balance like this.
The silence on the other line was lasting a little too long and Mello clenched a fistful of bed sheets in his free hand.
So Hal had nothing else to say.
She'd fucking snitched and told Near--and after she knew Mello trusted her!-- and she had nothing else to say for herself.
Mello found himself feeling backed into a corner and the more he thought about it, the more that wild feeling of an irrepressible need to escape wriggled in his stomach. It wasn't that he was afraid of Near… No. But…those eyes…boring into his own…tearing out every bit of him for further examination… He knew he could not bear to look into those horrible voids right now, not when he was already doing the utmost in his power to keep his ever-rampant emotions in check, not when he needed to be rational and put Matt first in his mind, not now.
"Hal," he repeated after a few more seconds, voice harsh, rough and almost hurt. "You gossiping bitch, why the fuck did you go and tell him?!"
He couldn't help it, and his body moved of its own accord, leaping off the bed to slam a foot into the wall with a resounding crack, free hand grasping out to find the digital clock off the nightstand and hurl it against the opposite end of the room because he just couldn't contain himself anymore with those images flashing before his eyes…
Blood… Death… Matt… Those empty, empty eyes… Searching, probing… finding only failure and loathsome fear…
"I can't believe you…" his voice was getting shrill, livid and almost panicked and he couldn't get the vision of that bloody corpse out of his mind. "If you fucking bring him to my fucking house, I swear to God I will murder him, you hear me?!" he screamed into the receiver, hurling a glass at the wall as well and watching it shatter while tiny rivers of water trailed down the white paint.
And then, just as he was reaching down for something else to throw in an attempt to soothe his tattered nerves, Mello's fingers found a thin cardboard rectangle, and he froze, staring at the object in his hand.
The cigarette box crumpled in his grip as the distressed blonde staggered back to sit on the edge of the bed staring at it with wide eyes and he finally managed to whisper, "Don't let him near me, Hal, y'hear? I'll kill you both, you traitor…"
Near watched from his spot next to Hal as her fingers clenched in a death grip around the cellular phone, her entire hand whitening with the force of the grasp.
He'd of course heard every word Mello had said. It hadn't been very hard, seeing as the furious blonde seemed to have been yelling at the top of his lungs. Had Near been anyone else, he would have frowned, but instead the white haired boy settled for staring long and hard at the wireless phone. Though it was certainly not an abnormal occurrence for Mello to yell, and even more so for him to be upset by Near's presence, even given the persons involved and the situation, Mello seemed more upset than usual.
Also he'd been out of line talking to Hal as he had.
Near allowed a small sigh of exasperation to escape him, and he stepped into Hal's view with a hand held out in front of him.
"If you would please allow me to handle this, Hal, I've had plenty of experience."
The blonde agent looked up at him in surprise before wordlessly handing him the phone in acquiescence.
Near took the phone from her outstretched arm, noting the slight flush that had come over her cheeks. It surprised him slightly if only because he knew it was very infrequent that the agent became upset with someone in such a manner. Even when Mello had placed a gun at the back of her skull, Hal had barely blinked an eye.
How annoying. They had been in New York for less than an hour, and already Mello was making things difficult.
Near pulled the phone to his ear, and without preamble began speaking.
"It's been a while, Mello. Before you begin to spew needless expletives that I will of course ignore, I would like to inform you that I don't appreciate your crude behavior with my agent, particularly when you were working off of a false assumption."
He paused long enough for a breath, but continued again before he could be interrupted, as he most certainly would be.
"For Hal's sake, I'd like you to know that she did not give me any information regarding her trip to New York. I tapped the phone call she received from you, and intercepted her at the airport in Washington. I know an apology is considerably too much to ask from you, but I thought you might like to know that she did not deserve to be spoken to in the manner in which you did, especially considering the fact that she woke in the middle of the night to catch a flight to New York for your sake. Perhaps these factors can aid you in seeing the extent to which you just made a fool out of yourself."
He paused again, and the line was thick with a choking silence.
After a minute more without a response, Near released another small sigh.
"Then I can assume we'll be seeing you in a bit if you have nothing else to say…?" The question hung in the air, and this time he waited for an answer, his building agitation forcing a finger up to curl in a familiar layer of soft white curls.
Mello felt his knuckles creak in protest to his death grip on the cellular and he barely managed to speak long enough to spit as harshly as possible, "Right. Tell Hal I'll be seeing her soon… And why don't you just get your little albino ass back on the next flight to Hell, you eavesdropping motherfucker?"
How dare he, how DARE he tap my fucking call like that!!
The blonde was absolutely livid.
And with his own agent too! With a woman! The brat had absolutely NO sense of decency! No morals at all! Godless little shit…
Whatever the fuck they put in cigarettes was getting all over his left hand and leaving a disgusting gritty feeling under his fingernails but Mello just couldn't let go.
He almost wanted to apologize to Hal and beg her to come faster. But not quite. He'd never do such a pathetic thing, and certainly not with Near there.
So he settled instead for plowing on with his verbal abuse of the white-haired boy with hardly a pause for breath.
"And if you even try to come near me, I swear I will tear your fucking intestines out with my bare hands and use them to hang you from the nearest telephone pole, you hear me?! Tell Hal I'll be expecting her in about an hour… You spying little shit."
And then, having temporarily run out of violent threats with the feel of powdered nicotine in his fist and no smoking brunette moron around to yell at him for it, Mello snapped the phone shut with a resounding click, letting his head sag down into his hands, elbows digging into his knees and breath choking in rage and remorse and worry.
Near blinked at the phone in his hand as Mello's snarls were punctuated with a vicious click before the line went dead. He stared at the receiver, trying to discern what had just occurred.
He was used to Mello's cursing and constant condemnation; it didn't bother him in the least. He could count the number of times the two had had a two-sided civil conversation on one hand, but even for Mello…the intense fury that filled his voice was laced with something else…an explosion that, for once, had not been entirely Near's fault.
Near had never known anything that irritated Mello as completely as himself.
Never.
But the extent of Mello's anger had spoken volumes of 'something else' and as the thought implanted itself in Near's mind, an icy fingered grip took hold of his insides. The intensity of Mello's words had contained all of the emotion and ammo that was usually involved when striking at a scapegoat.
Something was wrong, and he still had no idea what it was other than the fact that for once he was not the cause.
It was driving him insane.
And that thing…that disgusting, unfamiliar, thing in his voice… He was sure now. It was insecurity.
It wasn't just Mello's normal inferiority complex acting up though, this was different. It was insecurity laced with desperation, a dangerous combination, and one that would explain the added brutality of the blonde's behavior.
The notion ate away at his brain. Perhaps he was simply stunned that Mello had found something that upset him more than himself. Even Kira hadn't quite managed that.
He didn't like it.
Didn't like what it did to Mello, how it made him… different than before.
The Mello on the phone had been wrong. Weak with anger.
Whereas before Mello's anger had only provided fuel to the flames of his brilliant mind, this anger…it clouded and dulled that same brilliance.
Remembering suddenly that Matt was in New York accompanying the blonde, Near felt somewhat reassured. Surely Matt would know what was going on, though it did worry Near a bit to think that Mello had been acting this way for some time despite the fact that the gamer was spared most of the blonde's violent tendencies.
Near released the imprisoned hair that he'd been holding, remembering how he had lost a few strands the last time he had been holding onto it while analyzing the situation.
When they arrived, he would just have to be sure to see Matt first, and hopefully the situation would become clearer after he had a chance to discuss things with the auburn haired boy.
Glassy black eyes tilted up at Hal, sending her an unspoken message, and the two began walking towards the curb of the airport.
Near stood to the side as the flaxen haired agent waved down a taxi, mind trailing back to his previous thoughts, and a small frown actually crawling its way up his features this time.
Immune as he was to Mello's threats and name calling, he was not looking forward to their imminent encounter.
The hot water caressing his back in a steady stream from the shower head did nothing to soothe Mello's nerves or the painfully stiff muscles in his shoulders where the knots of tension refused to ease no matter how hard he tried to tell himself he had to relax and that everything was under control and that overstressing would only lead to mistakes…
God, mistakes.
His whole fucking life was a mistake, come to think of it.
Mello leaned against the steam-slick tile wall in the bath, letting the water attempt somewhat in vain to drown out the screaming which had resumed in his ears after he'd hung up on Near.
And now it was not he but Matt who was paying for those mistakes.
It was his own fault, all his. Matt had nothing to do with it.
Matt had nothing to do with his uncontrollable violent tendencies, anger issues, easily disturbed emotional state, shitty childhood, abusive father, dead mother, nothing.
Matt had nothing to do with his fucking moronic ideas of catching Kira by infiltrating and using the mafia, brutally fighting his way to the top, making countless dangerous enemies and not caring, lying and plotting and killing and irreparably sinning. Nothing.
Matt had nothing to do with any of it.
And yet it was not he but Matt who was now in the hands of some psychotic lunatic out for revenge for wrongs done against him which Matt had absolutely nothing to do with.
It was not he but Matt who cried out in agony and repented for sins he did not commit.
God, why, WHY?
Mello lifted his face into the streaming water, letting it pour over his tainted skin and steal away his breath as he offered himself up, bare and defenseless and penitent.
God, take me now and bring Matt back to safety.
God, why do You punish him for my crimes?
God, let me take his place no matter where he is.
God, I just can't stand it! Let me, please…
God, keep him safe.
God, give me strength.
God, help me find him and bring him back to me.
God, he doesn't deserve this.
God, You have the wrong man.
Take me.
Mello turned the shower off slowly, bangs dripping into his eyes and streaming down his cheeks like the tears he couldn't shed.
God was silent.
Matt screamed in his head.
He glanced briefly sideways into the foggy mirror as he mechanically wrapped a towel around his hips.
The soaking blonde boy staring back at him had empty gray-blue eyes and a dark scar to brand his sins upon his face.
And then the image cracked and a delicate spider web of shattered glass of twisted and blended pale flesh and dripping golden hair blinked dully back at him.
He hit it again, this time watching shards crumble away and clatter to the counter, small crimson stains blossoming upon the pieces and the fake marble and swirling into a vague pinkish blur of condensation on glass.
It took a second to force his eyes to tear away from the loathsome shattered wretch he saw there, but by the time it took Mello to realize just how much he loathed himself right now, he found himself already dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeve and busying himself about the room while his torn knuckles decorated the soft gray carpet in tiny scarlet blossoms.
Hal was coming.
Fuck Near.
Hal was coming and she could help him. She had helped him before and she had helped Matt before and she could do it again.
The notion still grated but he had reached a point of certain odious acceptance toward his own weaknesses.
Now he had to focus on setting things up so they could start working right away.
Other than the one corner of the room by the television where the coffee table stood with electronic equipment piled on top and around it, the rest of the apartment was in utter shambles.
Mechanically, blankly staring as he tried to distract himself from the overwhelming shadows of his own failures, Mello moved broken furniture, kicked shattered glass and ceramics out of the living room, did his best to make the ruined living space a bit more presentable. The couch, however, was probably beyond repair.
After a second's deliberation, he moved it into the kitchen to sit forlornly by the splintered pile of what had once been chairs and instead dragged out pillows and blankets to pile around the newly-created workspace near the miraculously whole TV.
He scanned his handiwork apprehensively, knowing Hal would probably ask questions. Well, he wasn't precisely obliged to give answers. Besides, he knew he made his personality clear enough to everyone for her to know it wasn't that unusual for him to decimate everything in reach when angry.
Yes, he'd tell her he'd done it when Near said he'd tapped the call.
Very believable… And, well, some of it was true.
Kicking some more bits of what had probably been dinner plates under the wrecked couch, Mello shuffled back out toward the computers, fingers sliding over the keyboards and starting the programs he knew they'd need. The second Hal walked through that door, they were getting to work, Near be damned, and questions could wait.
Near…
FUCK.
Mello didn't even want to think about it anymore, not after he'd just been trying to fucking clean. The bastard…
But just as he was trying valiantly but probably vainly to quell a newfound urge to destroy, the blonde was spared the effort by a sudden striking melody which sent a shiver of horror mingled with desperate, stupid hope up his spine even as he leaped forward to snatch his vibrating phone off the counter, cutting the Mario Theme off with a sharp snap.
Words died in his throat as his mind battled the automatic impulse to cry out the name he so wanted to. But the somehow more logical part of him restrained the urge and he knew he mustn't say anything until he knew more because one false move could mean Game Over and the stakes were higher than he'd ever care to risk.
Blank green eyes stared at the dark wall in front of them.
Unseeing, incomprehensive, unfocused.
Minutes passed as hours, and hours as minutes, and at some point, Matt realized he wasn't sure anymore if he'd been in this place for days or weeks.
He stared at the wall some more, willing it to change, to move, to manipulate itself into a new kind of scenery. To morph into an endless grassy field, or a hurricane-filled night sky, or a raging desert storm, or anything but what it was. It didn't. It remained the same, the same monotonous dark gray that it had been for days now. The same unchanging slab of gloomy metal, useless, pitiful, unable to make any fucking difference in the events that were taking place.
Even though it was there the entire time, witness to everything that was going on, it could do and say nothing.
What a fucking waste of space, he thought to himself.
How incredibly and utterly pathetic.
It was enough to make him sick, or would have been had he anything in his stomach to be sick with.
He knew though that if he were to become sick, he would risk losing whatever diminutive amount of water still remained in his body, and that he would probably die shortly after.
Which, he had to remind himself, was a bad thing.
He did not want to die, mostly at least, not without making sure his other half made it through this first. He had to make sure Mello didn't get brought into it.
Then he would die. Then it would be okay to let himself fall asleep and never wake up.
It wasn't as though he was suicidal, not in the least, but at the moment, living and breathing was taking so much work, and he was just so damn tired.
The door creaked open suddenly and he immediately shut his eyes, the meager amount of light enough to cause them to sting and water. Something inside of him recalled the connotations of what that door opening meant, and it recoiled in loathing and fear where his physical body, pride put aside, simply was no longer capable of such an extreme movement.
The sound of the approaching footsteps weighed heavily in his eardrums, and he was suddenly reminded of old movies, and some medieval videogames, where someone always beat on a drum before an execution.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He forced his nerves away, knowing that he could not afford to waste any precious water by sweating it off in a nervous panic.
The footsteps stopped, and the sound of the door closing reached him.
A chill that had nothing to do with the climate washed over him, and he winced as the ripple caused his aching body to protest the small movement, but other than that he remained motionless.
Without warning or reason, the auburn haired boy felt tears prick the edge of his eyelids, and disgusted with his weakness, refused to let them fall, glad that the bangs hanging over his eyes disguised the few rapid blinks that destroyed the evidence of his failings.
No, Matt was not suicidal, not at all.
But somehow, he really, really, did not want to exist right now.
Dark golden eyes stared down at him, swimming with barely suppressed glee, and Paul offered the despairing boy trussed to the chair a cheerful "Good morning!" which echoed softly and rather dismally against the empty walls.
"I trust you slept well, Matt?" the tall man grinned, leaning down and twisting his head a little to try to peer into the other's face simply because he was curious to see what the face of utter and absolute defeat looked like.
Two other men stood some ways behind him, one of them different, the other recognizable as the ever stony-faced Ashworth, but did not speak or move. Bodyguards or simply trophies to flaunt his power, they seemed to lack a will of their own when Paul was not giving them orders.
The well-worn wolfish grin played eagerly upon his lips as the dark-haired male straightened, pulling a familiar dark red object from his jacket pocket.
"Let's see then…" He tapped his bottom lip with the top of the cell phone in what may or may not have been actual deliberation rather than the usual pretense.
He mumbled to himself, only half-audibly, the occasional word drifting down to the bound boy with growing horror. Something about laying out the rules… setting the stakes… and then something more about the camera and video features on Matt's self-devised cellular.
Paul seemed to have caught the almost imperceptible movement of his prey and laughed. "I'm sorry, did I frighten you? You know, it's really not my fault, Matt." The laugh was quickly cut short and twisted into a grimace.
The dark man suddenly lashed out, strong tanned fingers twining and twisting in thick auburn locks as he grabbed the top of Matt's hair roughly and jerked his head up to glare into his face with eyes of icy fire.
"No, not my fault," he repeated in little more than a whisper laced with loathing. "You have only him to blame, that hideous depraved monster." Paul scoffed, a harsh and cutting sound, and eyed Matt's hatefully protesting emerald eyes with a sort of disgusted half-pity.
"And yet you still want to hear his voice, isn't that it?" His lip curled in a snarl and he kept a tight hold on the mass of red-brown substance in his hand as he snapped open the phone.
"You're right," he whispered, nodding toward his men to step closer. "I want to hear it too… I want to hear him struggle vainly and curse his own worthless existence… I want to hear the wretched suppressed whimpers when he hears the pain he's causing you… I want to hear him cry out in protest as he watches the light leave your eyes… Are you ready to die, Matt?"
Paul's grin was warped and crooked, shining dully in the dim light before he jerked his hand roughly free of the auburn strands.
He pressed send once, slowly. Then a second time.
"Let's play a game…"
Matt's eyes widened slowly as a sickening feeling surged through the pit of his stomach, up into his chest, tightening its icy grip in a strangle hold around his overworked quickly beating heart. He knew what Paul's intentions were, knew, as he watched the familiar dance of fingers upon the phone's glowing blue keypad exactly what Paul was going to do with that extra bit of technology that Matt had modified his phone to include, just for kicks.
At that moment he was positive he had never hated anyone more in his entire existence. Kira himself hadn't evoked this kind of boiling hot loathing, and even Kiyomi Takada, the woman whom both he and Mello had almost met their end by, hadn't brought forth such an absolute venomous hate.
He wanted to get up and rip this bastard's fucking innards out through his throat, wanted to beat his fists into that soft tan flesh until it was a bloody bruise-covered mess no longer recognizable as a human, wanted to do something other then sit here useless, in this fucking chair, while this fucking psycho screwed with the mind of the person who was most important in the world to him, and used him to do it.
Matt wanted a lot of things right now, but he was pretty sure wanting wasn't going to be enough.
The screen of the phone brightened, springing into use as the call connected, and for the first time in days Matt was unable to hold his tongue as the entirety of what was to happen in a few moments began to sink into his brain.
"FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD!" His voice was hoarse from the lack of use, and nowhere near the volume that he desired, but it was loud enough for all that were present to hear.
His arms were numb and his wrists bleeding and sprained, the roaring agony in his shoulder had turned into a dull ache that he had pushed to the back of his mind, though he knew the pain would return full force shortly. His chest was on fire, ribs broken and bruised, and he was going to let Mello down.
He was going to die like a dog, no dignity or honor, and suddenly the prospect of dying in a car chase while aiding his best friend in taking out the world's most accomplished serial killer seemed like a luxury.
If he had died then, it would have been alright. He would have died useful, not a pathetic lump of existence, too weak to protect the person to whom he claimed absolute loyalty.
It was too much for his fragile state of mind, and with a muttered curse he felt his eyes swell and spill over again, and he hung his head in a mixture of defeat, shame and exhaustion.
He silently begged whatever deity was listening to grant him some tattered scrap of luck, and to keep the blonde from answering the phone. It was the only way for Mello to be spared.
His body shook with silent ragged sobs, and he closed his eyes.
God, just let me die before he picks up.
The seconds dragged on in eons, deafening silence, and Paul smiled twistedly and pressed the phone closer to his face like an excited child.
And then, finally, it could only be assumed someone had picked up because at length he spoke, the small crooked grin fully evoked in his voice.
"Mello, I presume?"
The bastard half fucking giggled. He sounded so fucking happy it was downright sickening.
There was a soft wordless growl on the other end of the most grudging affirmation. Yes, this was Mello. And just for the record, Mello fucking hated his guts.
Paul laughed.
"Ever the eloquent one, aren't we, Mello?" he taunted, pressing the 'speaker phone' button and peering down at the phone to press some more keys, fiddling with the settings.
Another hate-filled growl barely broke the silence. This time it might have been a sentence.
"What the fuck do you want?"
Ah, there.
Paul pressed some more buttons, leveling the phone to his eyes and peering through the screen. A well defined image of the broken youth on the chair had appeared there as if through a small window. The boy didn't look up. Paul wondered if he was trying to commit suicide by sheer force of will.
He decided to act more quickly, just in case.
The voice on the speaker was suddenly louder, sharp and incensed. "Answer me, you motherfucking son of a bitch!"
Paul granted him a soft Tsk.
"Temper, temper," he chided, highly amused. His fingers fiddled with some more buttons and he marveled at the advanced technology in his hand, unaware its creator was currently slumped before him.
The phone line erupted in a string of colorful and very vicious curses, which only elicited a throaty laugh of absolute delight.
"Patience, Mello, almost finished," he crooned. "Now, you'll have to accept the video link. Hope your phone can handle it…"
The volley of profanities ceased immediately and there was all-pervasive silence once more.
Paul noticed with some amusement that the auburn-haired boy twitched and began to squirm again. So he understood. Apparently, he wasn't so far gone yet.
Several eternal seconds crept by before a very flat, detached voice finally floated over from the speaker, uttering only one word.
"…video?"
"Oh, yes," Paul beamed down at the spectacular device in his hand. "Just accept the link and you'll get to see your precious Matt. That's what you want, isn't it? Or you wouldn't have answered," he pointed out slyly.
Mello said nothing.
Presently, Paul's screen indicated the connection was ready and his dark face split into a full grin. "Ashworth," he called pleasantly, and his man stepped forward. "Hold this right there," he directed in low tones, handing him the cell phone and positioning it. "I have other things to do…"
A profane hiss rose from the other side, and Paul knew the video had gotten through. Live video feed. Fucking brilliant. He couldn't have dreamed of a better device than this magnificent phone the captured boy had somehow possessed. It was a brilliant godsend and Paul was giddy just thinking about it.
He let the demonic blonde watch the still form of the boy tied to the chair for a moment while he strode over to the wall, where a length of thick cord hung from a hook. He pulled it down and ran it through his hands, unwinding it. Not too long. Perfect.
Ambling back within the perimeters of the camera's reach, he grinned through the device at the opposite party.
"Hello, Mello. Do you remember my face now?"
The boy again said nothing.
Paul glanced down to the corner of the screen for the signal and made sure it was still good.
"Oh, well, I didn't think you would…" He shrugged, tugging the cord taut in his hands with a soft snap.
He only wished the video worked both ways. Ah, well. One never could have everything.
"How's the view?" he prompted with another of his well-worn toothy wolfish grins.
The voice which came from the speaker was low and flat, barely contained emotion shoved roughly and forcefully under a thin mask of cold hate. "You are the lowest of all goddamned bitch-born motherfucking bastards, you dirty shitfaced lump of debauched filth…"
Paul laughed out loud. "You have such a way with words. Such a well-spoken and articulate young devil-spawned, vile piece of garbage."
He stepped behind the chair, catching the boy's chin just as he lifted his head at the sound of his friend's voice.
"See, Mello?" he smiled, digging his nails into the younger male's cheek roughly. "I told you I'd take good care of him, didn't I?"
The other line fell silent again.
Paul suppressed a frown. Where were the protests, the cries of misery, the terrified begging? Where was the panic he'd heard yesterday?
"Oh, Mello, don't be such a poor sport!" he scolded softly, winking at the camera. "And here we were, ready to give you a demonstration, isn't that right, Matt?"
The boy may have cursed. The sound was drowned in Paul's own dark laughter.
"We'll play a game, Mello," he began. "The rules are simple. You have four remaining days, including today, to locate this lump of useless flesh here" --he squeezed Matt's left shoulder lightly, extracting a satisfying shudder and choked gasp-- "before I call Game Over and you both lose."
Paul's smile was expectant, excited as he pulled the cord back into view.
"You want to know what happens if you get Game Over, Mello?" he inquired mockingly. "Shall I give you an idea?"
The phone line was silent except for soft, not-quite-concealed uneven breathing. Well, at least it was some sort of response, Paul thought in slight irritation. The wretched pleading would come soon enough.
Paul pulled the cord slowly in front of the striped chest before him, gripping it with both hands and drawing it up to hang loosely around the dark-haired boy's throat, watching in vague amusement the quickly pulsating vein in his neck that signified his heart was pounding like that of a frightened rabbit. Merely prey. Sport. Nothing more.
Paul was absolutely ecstatic. His fingers trembled excitedly, tightening on the ends of the length of wiry rope in his hands, pulling it slowly, almost gently closer against the shivering skin of the soft exposed throat bared to the waiting camera while Ashworth looked on with a rather bored expression, supporting one elbow in his other hand at his waist while he held up the terrible device.
An almost imperceptible sound crackled in a choked whisper from the receiver and was quickly quelled. It only added to his euphoria and Paul imagined the black-clad devil waiting with bated breath and wide, terrified eyes, and he grinned madly.
Even the soft click of the door opening and shutting quietly behind him was not enough to distract him, though he was vaguely aware of his cousin standing curiously near the doorway.
A few seconds passed with only Paul's taunting smile gleaming in the dim room and the soft shuddering breaths of his victim, but Mello said nothing more.
Tired of waiting for the blonde abomination to try pathetically to stop him, the Latino man moved on, whispering in honeyed tones.
"I'm going to show you, Mello," he began, leaning closer to his captive, fierce amber eyes boring through the camera lens into the object of his loathing, "who is predator here and who is prey. I know you're so used to being the dreadful little brat who takes from everyone and knows no limits, but let's see if you can handle a taste of your own medicine."
He wrapped the ends of the cord around his hands securely, pulling it back a little to dig into tender flesh. His eyes were dark molten gold, raging flames of deepest hatred.
"Watch and learn, and know that devils break as readily of honest men once their filthy claws are clipped and their spines torn out." The words came in a low hiss, sharp and harsh, and he pulled back more on the cord, ever so slowly, with every verbal strike.
"Know what it means to suffer helplessly."
A tug on the rope. A choked, rasping hiss of strained breath.
"Know what it is to be powerless and vulnerable and weak."
Another tug. Another tiny sound, an indistinct wheeze.
"Know the agony of your own uselessness, the fragility of your own mind and this brittle human body, the utter lack of meaning in all you've ever had and said and done when everything is gone."
The sounds of struggle were getting softer: choked, gurgling whimpers.
"I want you to pay close attention as I tear it all away and expose you for the worthless wretched excuse for existence which you really are. Watch carefully and see your own sins turned against you now. Watch as I return the service you granted my perfect Emilia. Watch and know there is nothing you can do. Learn to be powerless and know the sting of defeat, the burning pain of loss. You've spent your years treating lives as playthings; now you get to play the lethal game of fate with everything at stake, Mello! Are you enjoying yourself?!"
The room echoed with harsh laughter, roaring, resounding sadistic ecstasy deep and resonant and full of darkest malice.
The thick cord was wrapped securely, excruciatingly, around the boy's throat, biting cruelly into soft flesh, crushing the breath from his quivering body, unbearably tight.
And then, finally, the muffled cry of protest he'd been waiting for and relished so.
"What the fuck do you want from me, you bastard?!" The outraged howl resounded against the steel walls.
Paul grinned into the camera, fingers slowly, gradually loosening the stranglehold, leaving the fair skin beneath the rope torn and raw.
"Everything," he whispered.
Letting the cord fall to the concrete floor, he lashed out once more, grabbing a fistful of auburn locks and jerking the slumped form back up to face the camera with clouded, half-shut emerald eyes, blood leaking slowly from a torn lip, cheeks streaked with dirt and sweat and something more as the boy emitted weak heaving rasps of breath.
A thin, malicious smile played on Paul's lips, twisted and cruel and horribly delighted.
"Come find me and take it back, Mello," he invited softly. "You have only three and a half days left."
There was a muffled thud as the door slammed shut but Paul was too engrossed in his sport to notice the end of a thick black ponytail disappearing beyond the doorway or the light footsteps of the shaken young woman stumbling away in dazed horror.
AN (by Hitoshi-chan): Tsubasa Rose- We love you and your reviews. (I also love the fact that as I am writing review replies right now, you are studying for our midterm tomorrow, and as soon as I finish, you are going to help me study. I 3 you. A lot.)
CheeseFaerieXXL- okay, you get cookies and love for being our first reviewer. Lots and lots of cookies and love!
Rin-neechan- Thanks for the constructive criticism Mi-chan, especially since you don't even watch DN. Lol.
Everbloom-Karisa- We are so happy you enjoy the length of our chapters! For a while we considered cutting them down, but hearing from you and other reviewers that they liked the length was very encouraging!
Bakichan- Haha, I hope the dark and angst chapters are dark and angsty enough for you! If they're not, don't worry, it kinda gets worse…-is shot-
Shai-san- Glad to hear you enjoy it! Our villain scares me too…a lot…lol
Riku-Aura777- Thank you so much for all of your compliments! Keeping the characters believable and in-character is something we both spend a lot of time perfecting. Oh! I just got to another of your reviews ad I have to comment! Thank you sooo much for the compliments on our OCs! We put a lot of effort into making them realistic, and still incredibly disturbing. It's actually kind of a funny story how Tammy came into being… Well, maybe not that funny, but it makes me giggle.
Moyashii-You flatter us! Anyway, thanks so much for your review!
Matilda- Glad to hear you enjoyed it enough to review! Cheesy as this may sound, reviews are seriously what keep us going! : )
Yuru-neko-Awww Thanks! The arcade and club scenes were really fun to write. Hope you continue to enjoy!
Iridescentxroses-Thanks so much!
Mellos True Love- Thanks a lot for your continued reviews! We're so happy you like it!
Lynn-Thanks so much for the review! We try to keep them as in-character as possible. : )
Chibichibimoonstar-Thanks so much!
I Brake for Bishounen Boys- Okay, first of all? Love your name. I'm really glad you like the relationship between Mello and Matt. I've also read several other stories where the power play between them is much more intense, and as much as I love some of those stories to death, both Tora and I wanted to write about a Matt and a Mello with a little more equality to them. But of course, we couldn't leave it out entirely as it's a huge part of both Mello and Matt's characterizations. Thanks so much for your insight and appreciation!
Silvaaeterna-Very, very happy that you like our OCs! Personally I'm very uncomfortable with writing OCs because they have a tendency to become very unrealistic, and/or take too much of the story's attention. On the other hand, using an existing character as a villain simply wouldn't have worked, especially since this character had to have a personal grudge against Mello. We definitely agree with you about Matt and Mello living a normal life after Kira, it just couldn't happen, at least not for Mello. Haha, glad to hear you like our fluff AND angst, lol. I have always had a much harder time writing angst than Tora (it comes naturally to her lol), and find it actually drains me emotionally to write. That's part of the reason for the fluff. Haha, me and my weak constitution. Glad to hear you enjoy it! We both love and appreciate the length and depth of your reviews!
Yoroichi.Is.Sailor.L.- Hope we don't depress you too much! Thanks so much for your review! If it makes you feel better, I am an utter pansy, and actually cried while writing part of it. Man, I am so pathetic. lol
C Elise-Thanks so much! Hope you continue to enjoy! Feel free to tell us what you think of Near!
Romulus-girl-Oh no! Don't go insane! Then who will review? Haha, j/k. Thanks so much, glad you enjoy!
Volital-Thanks…umm...all of you? We will feed your addiction as fast as possible…sadly that isn't very fast…sorry! Anyway, hope you enjoy! Um, can I have your permission to make a shirt of that? Seriously. "You killed my sister. Prepare to be owned." Best review quote EVER. We love you.
Kyra213- Yeah, we have a lot of those cliffhangers…haha…sorry! Glad you enjoy!
Oh, found another review that needs to be responded to! Yeah, I don't know who has it worse, Matt or Mello…Thank you for reviewing!
Blaze Moonlight-It's always great to hear that our readers like our characterizations of the characters! (wow, that sounds repetitive…) Thanks so much! Oh, just got to another review of yours! Glad to hear that you can appreciate Paul's side of the story as well. It was very important to us that our villain be justified, at least in his own twisted mind, and even though Paul is obviously in the wrong, it's still not exactly black and white. I agree, Paul deserves to be hated.
Hannah-Oh, no! Don't die please! Thanks so much for your review!
Blue-Candle-Glad to hear you enjoy it so much!
Artificial Starlight-I am very happy our story was able to inspire so many different emotions in you, trust me, we feel them too! Please don't die of anticipation! I can tell you this now, we will NEVER abandon this , or any other story that we write together (or in general, most likely). I know that our update pace is kind of pathetic right now, but we're very busy and simply have not had the time to keep writing. But don't give up, I SWEAR we will not stop writing this. Thank you so much for all of your encouragement, and continued support. Also, I don't know about Tora, but feel free to PM me (Hitoshi-chan) anytime you feel like bugging us about an update. Although I won't necessarily be able to write any faster, I can at least let you know of our progress (or lack thereof…lol). Again, we are thrilled you enjoy our story so much!
Missy Sara-Thanks so much!
Roxie Faye- Like Obata himself? You flatter us. Really, your reviews have been so helpful and awesome that I'm not really sure what to say except for thank you so much. We appreciate your continued support a lot! You give us great feedback and inflate our egos probably much more than we need them to be inflated. We both look forward to hearing from you again! Oh, haha, by the way, we know all New Yorkers aren't mean : ) But Matt is silly. Lol.
Littleryokot-Thanks so much for your support!
Rashidlover-Thanks so much! We'll try to write as fast as we can!
Riza Mustang103-Thank you so much for your support! We're both doing pretty well in school, and I just got through my second to last midterm! As soon as I finish my last one, and my brain regroups (it melted a while ago) I will get back to writing. I have decided that being a double major, and in my junioryear of college is not conducive to updating timely. Especially since I have 2 upper division English classes, and then work at the writing center on my campus, so when I get home it's like, "Noooo….no more writing…" lol. Thanks for your patience! Oh and hey, we have no problem with multiple reviews! Seriously! Review as much as you want! : D
FusedByFlames-Thank you very much for your review! Glad to hear you like it!
Living in a Fantasy-Thank you so much, please get some rest! : )
Reviewer-haha, see author's note at top. We're getting there, I swear! Sorry about the wait, but please be patient. We appreciate your support, anyway, thanks for your review!
Gonzomouse-…-stares at review….is intimidated…- lol…um, for the record? Long reviews equal LOVE. Okay, if I didn't have a midterm that I should have been studying for, for the last hour or so I would respond to everything you said, but seeing as I don't want to fail, I'm very sorry but I'm going to have to make this short. You are awesome. Thank you so much for sharing your feelings and insight with us. Span our inbox all you like! We love it! Thank you so, so, so much for your support and words of encouragement! I hope you continue to enjoy our story! Oh, one more thing, please feel free to let us (-cough- me -cough-) know what youthink of Near. I put a lot of effort into writing him, and I would really appreciate constructive criticism since I've never written him before. : ) Thanks again for everything!
Okay! I think I got everybody, if I missed someone I'm very sorry! Know that you are still very appreciated and loved! We've been meaning to do this for a long time, so sorry it took so long. Please excuse anything I wrote that doesn't make sense, I'm not exactly at my best right now. -laughs nervously- Seriously though, we love all of you, you guys are so awesome. Reviews keep us going! Please keep giving us feedback whether it's constructive criticism or flattery! : ) Both are awesome…especially flattery… -is shot-
Also! To all of you readers who haven't reviewed, you guys are amazing too!
Last thing, I swear, any feedback on Near's characterization would be greatly appreciated! I've never written him before, and kinda want to know what people think of him. It's incredibly difficult to write someone unemotional actually having emotion, but still remaining in character. Love you guys, feel free to PM me (Hitoshi-chan) anytime. Peace out!