Author's Note: I know it took a while to get this new chapter written. I wrote it all during school and have only recently had time to actually write it during class. See, my classes were reviewing for finals for a week, and well…I never study or review, just pay slight attention to what the class is saying. And I still get A's, WTF? XD No, that's not gloating. My boyfriend getting a perfect ACT is gloating. .
On another note, people are freaking because it seems like the site is finally cracking down and deleting stories. I believe they are trying to censor us. It's what the government is trying to do and in all honesty it's against our first amendment right. And seeing as the makers of this site are American ((right? I don't actually know…)) it's an American site and therefore deleting stories like this is censorship! Also, Misa is a Bitch got deleted a few weeks ago. It had swearing in the title and summary, so…I guess I can understand that. If any of my other stories get deleted here that I actually care about ((my most popular, basically)), I'll start posting them on my deviantART, miajoie. Possibly on adultfanfiction as well, on which my name is Mitsuki.
ONTO THIS STORY! This chapter is Mello's and picks up right where we left off. At the end, you'll get some plot development. You'll also meet some new characters, so that'll be fun. I will warn you guys, though; I don't have too much of the storyline figured out, just the overarching plot of the entire story. If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them!
Warning: Just a few swears. And info overload at times, I guess. Every time I introduce a new character, be prepared for a bit of info overload.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or its characters. I do own this plot.
Chapter 3 – Mello
My only thought for a few moments was to make sure to get Matt out of my office. He…he was a liability, that was it. He knew me, but he wasn't supposed to, not at all.
I fought back the urge to kick him out right then, but knew that was a bad idea. Instead, I let him work, watching over his every move. He had pulled out numerous gadgets and cords from his backpack and was plugging them into each other and into my computer in places I didn't even know had holes. Technology had never been my thing, though, so I don't think I would have known anyway.
He worked quickly and silently, only asking me a few questions about files he had to transfer, security measures, and the like. He was trying to act professional, but I could read him as easily as if he had only just left.
Every time he had to speak was an ordeal for him, as if he didn't want to. He strained to act cordial, but I knew all he wanted was to bring up the past. Ask if I remembered our last day together, question if I had changed at all. My answers…would be limited, barely giving insight into my life…if he had asked to begin with.
Even if he wanted to—though, with the way I left it, I doubted it—I could not be his friend again. That's what it all came down to. All he was in my world was a techie and a liability. Nothing more. And he could never be any more.
As the hours passed, I realized I wouldn't be going to the lab today. I was used to standing for hours on end when working normally, so it was not too hard to continually stand behind Matt as he sat in my comfy office chair. I often got antsy sitting there unless I was already on edge. But I became antsy nevertheless, just standing there. My eyes grew tired and my mind began to wander…
His fingers tapping away on my keyboard and hooking up and plugging in cords and devices were almost skeletal. They were mesmerizing to watch. Flashes of old, wispy memories passed through my mind, of pudgy fingers going through the same motions, just simplified considerably. They almost seemed…adorable compared to the thin appendages now.
A thought slipped through my head of how the perpetually chubby kid had lost all his weight to the point of having such fingers. I couldn't see his face as it was turned away from me, but it made me wonder. I did recall his lips looking thinner. But I knew better than to think of them. I immediately began reading one of my cell posters.
The information on a rare type of bacteria found in the heart of the Amazon rainforest calmed my mind until another sudden movement from the redhead at my desk caught my eye. He'd only switched cords and it meant nothing to me, but it still sent my vision shooting straight towards him again.
And yet…watching him was so dull. The knowledge that his monotonous work was so vitally important scared me, though. He was making sure nobody could access information that could lead to such horrible ends…and he had no idea. He could not know what he was protecting. He was both saving his life and ensuring his eventual death.
But I didn't care. I couldn't care. He wasn't my problem. I cared about my life and my life only. What was the point of worrying about another's fate when he'll just leave in the end anyway? It wasn't like our paths will cross ever again.
"Just a few more minutes," he said, jolting me slightly. "Then I'll show you how to access your files and programs." Oh, wonderful; he'll be spending more time with me.
His "few more minutes" turned into another half hour. Finally, he turned around to see me standing right behind him, arms crossed, and a sour look on my face. "Oh," he called out in shock, sounding so innocent. "I'm going to show you how to—"
"Yeah, yeah, just get on with it," I interrupted.
"Yes, Mr.—Sir." Nice cover-up. Almost messed up again, did we?
He proceeded to show me the locations of files, programs, and software. He gave me various passwords and identification procedures and eventually showed me a very…special program. As he began to explain it, his eyes lit up behind his glasses and I couldn't help but be a little frightened.
"I-it's brand new, still experimental. But it needs some, uh, field testing…" he began.
I snorted. "So, what, I'm a guinea pig?"
"No!" he objected. I couldn't help but crack a smile, he was so flustered. "I know it works, perfectly at that—"
I sighed, "Okay, enough excuses. Thank you for the gift, now what is it?" My voice dripped sarcasm.
A program that lets me hack anyone on my own network, unless they have Matt-level protection? Now, what would I like to do with that…? The possibilities were endless, a marvelous opportunity. I wouldn't steal anyone's work, but extra info was always…appreciated.
Nevertheless, a thought quickly wiggles its way into my head. Was this a peace-offering? By giving me such amazing technology, no doubt made by his own hands, was he trying to say he forgave me? But then, I realized it didn't matter. I could not forgive him, nor would I. He was just my techie now, nothing more. There could be no peace offering when one side wasn't even at war.
I still thanked him begrudgingly—for the extra program as well as the actual service. No use upsetting the most trusted techie company. I then called security to lead him out once more. At that point, he finally stood from my chair and waited by the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly. He was still nervous. I remained standing so as to continue my menacing look. He refused to meet my eyes, seemingly defeated.
A few minutes later, a guard arrived at my door, three knocks preceding him. I called him in, explained who the redheaded nerd was, and that he needed someone to take him to his car. Matt took a deep, calming breath, ad followed the guard.
Once they were gone, I walked around my desk to the small window. The blinds were always drawn, as I didn't much like sunlight. I pulled a few down and noticed it was already dusk, but the few lamps on the grounds lit up a single car near the building entrance. Red sports car, are you serious? He got a car based off a video game, I knew it.
I shook my head and went back to my desk, pulling my chair back out and slumping into it. I didn't realize how tired I was until I sat down, my feet finally letting me know they were done for the day. My muscles must have been tensed for too long. I sighted, finally relaxed, and sunk into the soft, leather chair. The seat was still warm from Matt, and it sort of spooked me. I wasn't used to warmth—from a chair, from another body…
My hands absentmindedly stroked the arms of the chair, the smooth leather calming me from the day. While the rest of my office seemed impersonal, clean, the arms of that chair were worn and familiar. After a particularly hard day—be it from a failed experiment or a successful one—I would relax in my chair and stroke the arms near where my hands rested. The leather just…worked. Calmed me.
When I finally decided it was time to go home, I realized it was very late. Few people would be around, only those still in the labs, working on important experiments they couldn't leave overnight. I heaved myself out of my chair and grabbed my briefcase—more of a prop, since we were forbidden from bringing anything home. It had generic spreadsheets and the like for a desk job, just to appear normal in case it was stolen or searched for whatever reason. Sometimes, I laughed at the security measures the Company took. And then I would remember the reasons why the measures were in place. They were for my own safety, too.
I stalked out of my office, taking in what a waste of a day I had just had. After slamming and double locking my door (though it automatically locks when closed), I stomped towards the stairs. The last thing I wanted was to see another person. Lucky me, they should all be in the basement labs besides the nightshift security.
Except, of course, if they were leaving at the same time as I was. Like Light Yagami. Craptastic. Mr. Perfect enjoyed making sure everyone around him felt inferior—to his looks, his brains, his social skills. He especially liked torturing Lawliet. It was sort of weird, like a rivalry between the two. And it was—the Company higher-ups were contemplating hiring Yagami full-time. At the moment, the bastard was just using our space and technology, coming from another organization, which was running experiments as well…just not as…impactful as ours.
He would gladly join the Company, with better pay and more recognition in the field. The only problem was that he would, in essence, be taking Lawliet's job. And I couldn't stand that prick getting rid of my boss. Or becoming mine.
We met up at the door to the stairwell. As I slid my ID through the lock and scanned my fingerprints, he tried to start up a conversation. "Good evening, Mr. Keehl."
"'Evening," I replied, putting on the most pleasant face I could muster under the present circumstances.
He smiled and followed my hurried steps down the stairs. "Staying late, I see. Messing around on your new computer?"
Without turning around, I snapped, "How do you know about that?"
His chuckle echoed in the stairwell. He stated with smugness, "L told me." He was trying to shove in my face his closeness with my boss, that they were on first name basis and he could get insider information through him. But everyone with half a brain knew that they were only so friendly, so close, to mask their hatred and rivalry.
"Of course," I responded with false sweetness.
I was about to barrel down the last flight of stairs when he called out, "Hey, where're you going? I wanted to ask you something!"
I took a deep breath and slowed down, so he could catch up and walk next to me. "What?" I hissed.
"Someone's in a bad mood," he sung before flinging his arm around my shoulders. Did he not get the concept of personal space? And the fact that people in bad moods don't want to be around overly cheery brownnosers? "Anyway," he began on a more serious note, "a few of us are going out drinking Friday night after we get off. You in?"
I contemplated the situation. On one hand, I hated him. On the other hand, I hated everyone else. Then again, if he became my boss someday—not gonna happen, Lawliet is still better—I needed to be on his good side so I could get a promotion…and not have him as my boss anymore…if that ever happened…which it wouldn't. "Okay, fine," he gave in.
Maybe I could get out of it by having to stay late in the labs…I really didn't want to drink. Alcohol was so stupid, taking away inhibitions that were there for a reason.
"Great!" he cried as he pushed open the door to the ground floor. He quickly gave me details on what time we were meeting and where the club was before heading off. "Oh!" He was going towards the east garage, but stopped and turned back around. With an evil glint in his eyes, he said, "Don't invite L." And with that smirk, he turned away and walked through the door to the garage.
I shook my head, not understanding him, but continued on my way to the north garage. My car was the last one there in the dim, underground light. At the exit, I stopped and had a routine fingerprint and retina scan before my car was lifted above onto actual round. I floored it and was heading home before I knew it. Hopefully, tomorrow I could spend the entire day alone with my cultures and biohazard suit.
Author's Note: I think that's enough describing security measures…
How do you guys like Light? I'm trying to make him seem like a douche with a hidden agenda. He can seem all happy-go-lucky one minute and evil the next, probably because the original Light was just as bipolar…XD
I really don't mean to focus so much on Matty's weight, but it played a pretty big subconscious role in both their lives, so Mello is obviously gonna notice something if he suddenly looks slightly anorexic! I won't make a big deal out of it all the time, promise. Some of Matt's chapters will have parts dedicated to it only because it still is important. Just as important as Mello ranting about how he hates people, relationships, and the like.
Also, I'm not going to give away any other pairings, but there are more. And plenty more characters to bring in as well. XP
Please review if you enjoyed the chapter! And if you didn't, please review as well with why you didn't and any tips if you have them! Thank you so much! See you next chapter!