A/N: Holy crap, I realized that the previous chapter didn't mention one of my reviewers. If you're reading this, please know that it wasn't intentional. For some reason, my account keeps on making your penname disappear. Really, really sorry about that. Really. ):

Because these things aren't easy like they have been once before.
These things aren't easy anymore.
Why do you do this to me?
Why do you do this so easily?
- Why, Secondhand Serenade

Chapter Seven

"Was that really the best you could do?" Wedy questions at her, snide, cruel and uncompromising. The woman daintily pulls her cigarette away from her red stained lips, small wisps of gray smoke trailing upwards into the stale atmosphere. She circles the girl slowly, like a feline studying her pray, taking in every detail. Every scratch, every tear, every bead of sweat that rolls down Hex's features. Every hint of fear she shows. "I am hardly impressed, Hex."

A little over than six feet before them is the still body of an elderly man, mouth left open in a soundless cry of pain that Hex can still hear in her ears- playing and repeating like a broken record-, eyes wide yet unseeing, and his hand grips at his clothing, right where his heart no longer beats. Hex looks away quickly. She bites her lip in a futile attempt to halt its quivering, and softly, she whispers out, "I-.. T-there were some.. d-difficulties, Wedy."

Her words seem to fall only on deaf ears. Wedy looks down at her from the dark shade of her sunglasses, hardly aiding her vision in the dark room but Hex knows too well she sees her just fine. Wedy doesn't listen to her. Wedy never listens. "I gave you three minutes to infiltrate, Hex. Was that not lenient enough?" Wedy turns her head to the carcass, scoffing indignantly. "And what is that supposed to be?"

"T-that's the.." The seven year old swallows, and then reminds herself that Wedy has no tolerance at all for her stuttering. Raising her head, she says clearly this time. "That's what I was referring to.. The uh, problem."

Her mentor delicately picks up the man's identity tag, processing the information it gives quickly. "This man is evidence, Hex. Something you should avoid making at all. He should not have been a problem for you. In fact, you should've been able to slip past him easily." Glaring at the girl from where she crouches, she speaks in a deadlier tone. "You disappoint me."

"I-" she tries again. "He was having a stroke, Wedy! He was dying! I couldn't just-"

Wedy's voice cuts her own childish babbling and Hex is, like always, forced into silence. "You couldn't just leave him there to die?" The older woman laughs, not the amused kind, but the kind she always hears when Wedy is very displeased. Hex almost backs a step in apprehension, almost.

She can easily feel the woman's gaze boring holes into her face. Wedy stands again to her full height, tossing the tag carelessly onto the floor and she sidesteps it, taking slow steps towards the girl again. "I gave you three minutes. You gave me five, jeopardizing your mission for a man you don't even know." As if sensing the words Hex wants to say, she continues. "I don't care if you care, Hex. You know how it's supposed to work."

"Ah, 'course I do," Hex agrees meekly, lowering her head, ashamed and disgusted. Swallowing again, she recites, "I can't jeopardize the mission, whatever the circum..circumstance. Finish the job, stay unseen or if otherwise, do not hesitate to kill. Leave nothing behind." She closes her eyes nervously as she says the words. "Every second counts."

Wedy's blood red lips curl upwards on one side, only a little pleased. "You're still too soft my tastes, darling. That man would've sounded the alarm if I hadn't interrupted." Hex nods once in agreement again, and Wedy sighs impatiently. "I've told you once, I've told you a million times; don't be afraid to use your gun. People die anytime, Hex, and it hardly matters how or when it happens. It still happens, so don't be afraid to kill."

Hex's throat tightens too painfully she almost forgets to breathe. The girl gives a helpless roll of her shoulders, as if not knowing what to say or do anymore. Distressed, she admits, "That didn't make me feel any better at all."

"It wasn't supposed to," the older woman chuckles, standing right in front of the younger girl now, and Hex meets her eye to shaded eye. "You have a choice, Hex, to either let get the guilt consume you, or to forgive yourself and to just forget what you've done. Forgetting becomes easier when you no longer care."

The woman's apprentice's eyes are glassier this time as she says with complete conviction. "I don't want to care anymore." The muted grip at Hex's heart suddenly intensifies to a more painful hold, like it's decided itself without her permission to go ripping apart at the seams, little threads revealing themselves and disappearing to nowhere. As if they never existed to begin with.

"Then don't."

She doesn't even have to open her eyes to know that Mello's face is right in front of her, just a hair's breadth away. Hex feels more than a little suffocated by him, brows knitting together and her eyes shut tighter, trying to stop herself from hitting him on the head with her gun. Ease up, she tells herself firmly. What you don't see, isn't there. Keep ignoring him- maybe he'll go away.

But fat chance. He's Mello, for pete's sake, does she honestly need to remind herself how annoyingly stubborn he is? Hex imagines that he maybe has his eyes too wide, staring bullets into her features with his usual brand of child-like curiosity. She sets her jaw, already knowing by his ceaseless gazing and weird silence, that he wants something. And he won't leave her the fuck alone until he gets what he wants, that spoiled brat.

With the realization, she ends her deliberate ignorance. She peeks her eyes open slowly, meeting his own set of blues, and they ensue an impromptu staring match. And they're not just looking at each other, but they're seeing now, and she hates it. She hates that it makes her feel identified, kind of exposed. And not to mention, his stare is starting to make her cheeks redden slightly. She absolutely abhors it.

She means, please! When the hell did Hex become such a.. weak-willed blushing girlie? She's supposed to be badass, damn it, and badass people don't blush. It's practically law. She narrows her eyes out of pure anger and impatience, but Mello? She doesn't know what she sees in his eyes but the usual curiosity melding with his endless blue. As if under a spell, neither one dares to even blink.

Then, as if she burns to the touch –or like she's got cooties, a snide part of Hex thinks-, he gingerly reaches his leather-clad fingers to her hair, slowly brushing away her bangs so he can see her without the easy obstacle. Mello's being so careful, so goddamn careful not to break her. Like she'll break, and he's starting to freak her out like nobody's business.

Hex decides to end this.. uh, moment before it gets a little out of hand. "What do you think you're doing?" she asks him innocently, but her tone is laden with undisguised vehemence. Mello's fingers pause in their tracks too short a second, but she senses that he's hesitating a little. The idea that he's starting to back off calms her enough for her to be aware of their position.

Or rather, his position, because she's only lying down on the too large bed with nothing better to do. Mello's sitting on the edge of the bed, one palm pressing down beside her on the mattress to keep him upright and he's just hovering over her, the tips of his butter blond hair tickling her skin. Geez, there goes her calm. She's back to feeling discomfort once again.

Her dear –please note her heavy sarcasm- Melly-bean quirks a brow upwards. His lips go twitching into a tiny smirk, knowing what she's thinking, totally disregarding her claustrophobia, amused at her - he's embedding himself deep into her last nerve. The bastard. "I thought you were asleep," he murmurs, voice no louder than a whisper. Like he doesn't want anyone listening in on them, but that's funny, because there's no one else in here but him and her.

"Yeah. Uh huh, sure," she deadpans carelessly, not quite paying him the attention he's calling for. "But that doesn't really give you an excuse to go breathing in my face now, does it?" Hex swats his hand away from her hair and forces him to move away by sitting up abruptly. She reaches for her coat on the other side of the bed, wearing the sleeves roughly as she glares at the other teen.

Mello shrugs, pulling out a bar of chocolate from nowhere. He tears the foil wrapper expertly, sinking his teeth into the candy like he's some kind of weirdo Dracula, like he's been made to do it. "Call it what you will," he drawls out lazily, but he quickly changes the subject. Mello's been doing this a heck lot nowadays, Hex notices. "Jose's been on my neck about you terrorizing him."

"So long as I'm concerned," she shoots back, crawling across the bed on all fours to reach the edge. "He's yet to start pissing in his pants before I call it terrorizing. All I did was insult him.. Just a little.." Mello looks at her with a raised brow. "Okay, a lot, but geez, he's such a fucking pansy." She picks up her leather gloves from the chest at the foot of her-their- bed and tugs them on, wearing another dirty look. "So he goes telling on me now? He's in the mafia, not some little kids show where he cries to mommy."

A warning look. "Hex.."

Hex ignores him, finally off the bed and she brushes away the non-existent dust from herself, as if she's been lying in bed for ages instead of a short hour. "And you go and get yourself miffed by his freaking whining, and now you're probably here to tell me to start 'being nice'." She crinkles her nose distastefully, because really, she thinks stupid Jose doesn't need her nice. She doesn't like him one bit.

Mello's eyes narrow dangerously as he goes as stiff as stone. He clenches his free hand into a tight fist, the other slowly lowering his bar of chocolate from his mouth. Probably radiating murderous intent, but Hex doesn't get intimidated that easy. "Don't make any goddamn assumptions when I hardly said anything," he speaks angrily, teeth baring like some kind of wild animal in an angry snarl. "Quit being a bitch- why the fuck are you so worked up?"

"Am not," she insists, her lower lip jutting out into a frustrated sort of pout, and she crosses her arms.

"Are too."

She scoffs indignantly, rolling her eyes in that mocking manner she does so well. Hex cocks her hip to one side, raising her head as if to set a challenge for him. Just as she expects him to, he takes the bait. So damn predictable. So Mello. "What are you- five?"

He scowls at her insult as soon as she utters it, already stalking towards her and he towers over her so easily. Hex still has her chin up defiantly, daringly, and her bright eyes give off that glint that had been one of the reasons Jose went squawking to Mello in the first place. Not like he knows that. No. He's too busy accepting her challenge. He's too busy being pissed at her, the asshole. It's not like she's done anything wrong, right? "Do not change the subject, Hex."

Her pink tongue darts out from her mouth, licking at her lower lip slowly. "Why the hell not?" she says this in a cheeky whisper, trying to stop herself from using an angrier tone. Control, Aiber's always said. Never back down. "You did."

Mello grits his teeth together, taking one step closer but she doesn't back away. He shakes his head, as if trying to shake off a thought Hex doesn't know. "This isn't about me," he tells her, but before he continues, she cuts him off with a smirk.

"So this is about Jose, huh? Melly-bean, is there something between you two that you aren't telling me?"

Taunting him, she knows he realizes that she's trying to rile him up, and she's doing it pretty good so far. Mello's fists clench even tighter now and his knuckles turn white, shaking visibly. He's restraining himself from lashing out completely- she triggers his temper so effortlessly. "Stop it," he hisses firmly, and finally their fronts touch. Hex barely stops herself from recoiling from the contact. She hates it. "Stop it. This is about you."

Hex's smirk falls just like that. She dons a livid expression that rivals his own, eyes blazing and she sheds all traces of her playful persona. "What about me?" she demands to know, stomping her foot down because she knows she's immature. So sue her. "You're in the mafia now. What more do you want from me?"

Before he can answer a quiet rustling at the door gains their attention. They both turn their heads to it after a little jolt, and Hex mutters something along the lines of, "I don't believe this," ignoring the look of slight confusion that dances behind Mello's eyes. She heads towards the only exit of the bedroom as she pulls out her gun, turning the knob and letting the door swing wide.

There in all his glory is the rat himself, Jose, staring at them, but more to her, with eyes wide in horror, Hex notices this with pleasure. She loves the reputation she's gained in such a short span of time. The fear she strikes down their spines. She inhales this fear, breathes it, before her gun gives off a resounding click as she raises it to the man's head, leering. "Well, well," she whispers, forgetting for a moment that Mello's just behind her, watching. "Jose.. Were you eavesdropping?"

Of course he was, but Hex wants to hear it. She wants that little snitch to admit it. Barely five seconds pass and her patience is all but gone. He won't answer. Coward. Cocking her head aside, she presses the muzzle of her weapon to the taller man's brow. "I hated you to begin with," she confesses to Jose with a grin stretching across her face. "Good for nothing, filho da puta.. I'll see you in hell."

And there is a bullet through his brain faster than she cares to process. But he's dead.

She looks up from the doorway out to the corridor, where Zakk and Eddie are watching her carefully, guardedly. Narrowing her eyes, she gestures to the body and says, "Somebody clean that up." Spinning on her heel back into the room, she locks the door to see Mello less than a foot away from her. "You were saying, Melly-bean?"

His shoulders are rising and falling at a fast pace, ragged, uncontrolled breathing racking his frame. Mello's got this crazed look in his eye, like the tight lock he's had on himself is finally crushed to dust. The cold exterior he's been wearing ever since they've gotten in the mafia? It's gone. It's just Mello now. Him, and pure anger. "That was cold blooded murder, Hex."

"No," she shakes her head a little, shifting her weight to one foot and she tosses her gun carelessly onto the bed. Her tone is light and frisky, but she knows he can hear that edge that comes with it. "That was exterminating a pest."

Mello closes the gap between them again. "He had a life, Hex. He's human. Doesn't that mean anything? He had a fucking family and you ended it for him like some kind of monster."

She disregards the slight twinge pulling at her heart as he speaks that last word, and her eyes widen suddenly, as if only realizing the situation. She killed Jose. Just because he was annoying her. Just because she was in a goddamn bad mood? Hex's killed before, but she's never done it out of anything other than necessity. She wants to curse out loud, but Mello's here, and she can't afford to let him see her slip. Not even a little.

Because Hex doesn't regret. It's unheard of, ludicrous. So she puts on a façade that hides her, like a mask, that mocking exterior she's decided she likes so much. She's so good at pretending, sometimes she forgets which one is really her. "It's no big deal, Melly-bean," she gives an easy roll of her shoulders. "I've killed plenty before, disregarding all that shit. He's nothing special, and it doesn't matter to me anyway."

"What's with you?" Mello spits out finally, eyes penetrating her own for an answer. "You've been acting bat-shit crazy ever since we've got here, acting like a bitch and offing too many people for no fucking reason. You lock yourself in here like it solves the fucking problem when it doesn't. Why the hell are you so pissed off at everything?"

It's almost as if she didn't hear, because her reply is simple. Two words, three syllables. Rolling off her tongue like nothing ever matters to her anymore. "Stop caring."

Before Hex can leave the room, she feels Mello grab at her arm quick, jerking her towards him and she trips on her feet, but Mello doesn't catch her like she thinks he would have. No, he slams her to the nearest wall and her back stings, but he isn't done. His other hand snakes to her hair, fingers threading painfully, and he yanks her white-blond locks, forcing her to face him.

"Why don't you care?" he interrogates, narrowed eyes searching hers angrily, furiously, and he tightens his grip. Hex bites back a gasp at the abuse. Mello's shaking slightly, she can feel him, and his eyes are glassy. She would've cared, she should've but he's the one hurting her like this, so she doesn't answer. Growling, he yells louder now, "Answer me!"

He's hurting her somehow. Not that physical pain, but she'll take it any day. Right where her heart's beating, she feels as if it's starting to pull apart at the seams again. It hurts, it stings. And the pain is all too familiar to her.

Disapproval. Hate. Scorn. Loathing. Mello must think she's so below him right now, she sees that in his eyes. She sees how much he wants to hurt her, how much he wants to scream the sense into her. Hex doesn't know why he doesn't just do it. She sees, but she doesn't know why he cares so much, and it scares her.

She's never wanted to care about Mello either. Hex's tried stopping herself, but now she's got a weakness, she's so sick of it. She shouldn't have gotten too close to him, because she shouldn't care. Hex should've treated Mello just like she treats everyone else; cold, uncaring, selfish. But what makes Mello so different? What makes her care so much about what Mello thinks, says, or does? What makes her care about Mello?

She shouldn't.

Because caring hurts.

Hex tears her eyes away from him and forces them shut, as if she's cringing away from everything. She doesn't think about so much anymore that Mello's watching, that his face is right in front of hers. She doesn't want to hear of it. As much as she tries to stop the stinging sensation at the back of her eyes, she starts to feel wet trickling down her cheeks.

And she's crying.

For the first time in far too long she's crying. For getting disowned as a kid, for being left out in the streets, for being sent to too many foster cares. For being sent away by L, for Wedy, for Aiber. For Mello. For herself- all that she's said and done, all she's killed, all she ever held in. Hex just loses it, and she cries.

Mello loosens his grip on her arm, unthreading his fingers from her hair and she hears him call her name quietly. She feels his fingers trail from her hair, ghosting down her cheek until he reaches her chin, tilting her head up, so much more gently this time. He says her name again, questioningly this time, but Hex doesn't want to face him anymore.

"Leave me alone," she says thickly, brokenly even. "Just leave me alone."

Hex feels Mello pulling away from her far too slowly, it's like he's hesitant. He says nothing anymore, and the sounds of his footsteps walking away from her are drowned by the pounding in her ears. She doesn't even register the moment he leaves the room.

If he even leaves at all.

TBC

Hex's vocabulary:
Filho da puta- son of a bitch. (Portuguese)

A/N: A little peek on what Hex's childhood was like with Wedy. And uh... Hex just had a breakdown- I don't know what to make of it, actually. This one kind of wrote itself. This chapter's a little dramatic/serious/angry, don't you think? Meh. Tell me what you think- comments, ideas and constructive criticism are very welcome. :) *hint hint*

A special thanks to:
Kira the Wolf (Thank you! :) Hope you enjoyed this update.)
ChicalaMoya (Thanks! :D I guess this chapter shows how Hex's affected by the mafia and stuff. And thanks also for commenting on Rod's appearance, 'cause I kind off pulled that one out of my butt, haha.)
C. Holywell-Black (Thanks for liking the writing style. :D And I'm glad you approved on the mafia initiation-thingy; my paranoia told me it'll be weird if they get in so easily. . Also, I'm glad Rod was believable to you haha. Kind of eased off the pressure for me. Hope you enjoyed this one. :))
Overboard343 (I updated this week. :P I hope you enjoyed this one like you did with the last chapter. Thanks also for commenting on Mello and Rod- I don't know squat about Scarface or the Godfather either, haha. :P) for reviewing!

Preview:

On the floor, in the center of this too clean room is the familiar boy he knows. Leg tucked closer to his abdomen like it's his own idea of security, and while a pale hand busily stacks cards, the other disappears into his own head of sugar-white, curly hair, twirling never-ending circles. Monotonous, his voice, and so quiet it's just above a whisper. "Matt knows where they are. Please tell me."

Polite as they are, they both know Near's words are a demand.

la-la. Reviews will be very much appreciated. :)