A/N: This chapter is so long. ._.

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Adrenaline Rush

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(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside
(Save me)
call my name and save me from the dark
- Bring me to life, Evanescence

Chapter Twelve

Curling smoke clouds, thick and gray, filter his vision. The suffocating smell forces its way into his lungs and Mello is left coughing violently. All around him is red, charred remains, and burning ash. The building is set ablaze. Fire is licking at everything in sight like the greed of the devil.

Mello feels fear and desperation. He is running towards an exit, as fast as his legs can carry him. Somehow, the exit remains beyond his reach. The floor is stretching and winding –or is he getting dizzy from inhaling too much smoke? Death is behind him, chasing after him, whispering that he will not make it in time to save himself.

His trepidation heightens to immense degrees, just as the taste of impending disaster and doom goes washing over him. They leave a bad taste in his mouth. The booming sounds of explosions have ceased, and everything in sight is beginning to crumble. Stone and rubble quiver and shake by his feet.

Suddenly, there is a loud crack above him. His eyes widen as he looks up, and although he wills himself to move, he does not react in time. The ceiling crashes down on him, trapping him. The blaze spreads faster, heating, charring his skin.

And he is burning alive.

Mello's eyes snap open. Darkness and black greets him, and at first, he truly believes he is dead. He reaches out to touch the blackness and feels a fabric-like softness to it. He sighs in relief. He isn't dead, merely under a mess of sweat and his comforter. He kicks the latter off of him and sits up to survey his surroundings. Is anything out of place?

Is he still dreaming?

There is sunlight peeking from behind the curtains, casting a few rays of light over the bedroom floor. There is a table lamp shining over papers and pencils that lay still on an oak desk. Nothing is out of the ordinary. He is awake now. Nothing is burning, and there is no charring flesh. No smoke, no fire, and no dying. It had just been a nightmare.

There is nothing to worry about, even though it all had seemed so real.

Like a foreboding, a warning that if he goes too far, he will be going down with fire. Mello grimaces, telling himself to be more cautious. Better safe than sorry.

Shaking his thoughts away, he glances at the nightstand. The angry red numbers of the digital clock read 11.56 A.M. He curses softly. He does not understand how has overslept when he does not even remember falling asleep. Last night seems blurry and unclear to him. He remembers glass bottles, pages, ink and paper, filled with nothing but unimportant words that will do nothing to help his Kira investigation.

Somehow, despite his plentiful hours of rest and sleep, Mello is still so tired. He is tempted to fall back into the sheets, but he remembers he has trained himself better than to spoil himself with such luxuries. Kira is killing by the hundreds, maybe even thousands, so Mello cannot afford to waste time.

He needs to get a step further in all his research and investigating. Mello needs to show L exactly why he is better than Near will ever be. Mello is going to be the new number one.

Motivated, he pulls himself up off the bed, but is abruptly hit by waves of nausea and dizziness. The room begins to blur, spinning in circles and casting him off balance. In his line of sight, colors dance like wildfire, making him so sick and uneasy. Mello curses, and blames his sudden descent into weakness on no one but himself.

It has been bound to happen sooner or later, given his poor health habits. After too many days of self-induced malnourishment, skipping meals, and irregular days of actually succumbing to sleep- it is amazing that he is still able to stumble to the door.

Damn, but he needs some aspirin.

How to use V: A person can shorten his/her own life by using the note.

"Just give up, sweetheart."

"Shut up, Mattie. No one's winning yet."

Hex and Matt attack relentlessly at the keyboard of their laptops. Their hands are almost blurring with the speed and efficiency of seasoned hackers. Their eyes are glossy and unblinking, reflecting the eerie lights emanating from the pixilated screens. They refuse to let even the slightest pieces of information escape their notice, for everything may prove to count.

The effects of the caffeine pumped up in Matt's system is starting to wear down, and his eyes are begging to close, tired with the strain. He wants to collapse somewhere –even the sofa will do- and just fall asleep. Even without looking at Hex, he knows she is going through the same struggle to keep awake.

Neither one of them has ever gone twenty six hours –and counting- of nonstop hacking. As much as Matt is enjoying his time with Hex, this is getting ridiculous. He wonders when she will decide to end all the rematches and give up this little game of theirs.

As he reads the encrypted code on his computer screen, he asks her idly, "Are you done daisy-chaining (1) yet?"

Hex attempts to stifle a yawn, but Matt catches it. It confirms his suspicion; she is just as tired as he is, if not even more. He imagines Hex rubbing at an eye while keeping the other trained on the screen as she says, "Yeah, but this raster burn (2) is killing the crap out of me. Resolution control does nothing- why the hell are you not complaining about it?"

"I've had my computer designed for hacking, you know, unlike yours," he tells her, tapping at the frame of his orange goggles fondly. "Also, my eyewear isn't just for photosensitivity. She protects my eyeballs fabulously. That's why I've yet to have any severe optical damage."

Hex smirks in amusement. "You realize they look dorky, right?"

The dark haired teen grins impishly. "The ladies tell me I look pretty fine. Two weeks ago, some of those girls at Gamestop even gave me their numbers. What've you got to say to that?"

She scoffs at him disdainfully, thinking Matt's flock of flirty females are unimpressive. Matt ignores her, opting not to have his pride wounded. Hex drawls, "Nah, I bet they just felt sorry for you. Maybe, they think you'd cry when some non-dorky guy flat out tells you how weird you look."

Pausing, Matt suddenly asks, "Hex, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That was my heart breaking."

The towheaded blond snickers like the nasty brat she is. "No, that was me walking all over it."

Matt rolls his eyes inwardly at her. "You're despicably cold-hearted, honey."

"It's a talent."

He laughs. "I can't begin to guess how Mello's put up with you all this time."

She throws a leg over the arm of the sofa and leans comfortably into Matt's side, drawing the computer onto her lap. He does not mind her contact in the least. The apartment is too cold for midday somehow, and the body heat rolling off of her in waves is warming him effectively.

"Mello's surprisingly patient," she says in a tone which implies that none of her words are true. She crinkles her nose with a wide grin. "He takes care of me with nothing but tender loving care. It's always so sweet, I throw up."

"Some ladies would already kill to be in your position, then," Matt plays along. "Mello isn't just nice to any girl, seriously."

She snorts, drawling out sarcastically, "I'm so flattered."

As her computer processes her work, Hex risks looking over her shoulder to Matt. He is processing encryptions, translating a multitude of zeroes and ones in his mind for easier comprehension. It hurts her brain just to think of what the code is saying. She clicks her tongue distastefully. "You make things awfully hard for yourself."

Matt shrugs, a humble smile striking his features. "Binary code's not too bad- sure it's a little more difficult, but it's a hell lot faster, and more informative too. I'd use the normal, safer way you're using, but we're having a speed hacking competition, aren't we? I'm using all I've got in my arsenal."

He hits the last key and grins approvingly. He is in the system at last. "It looks like I've won this round, kid."

The teen sets his computer aside, blinking tiredly. He folds his arms behind his head and kicks his feet onto the table; an exaggerated show of contentedness, or maybe he is really that tired. He hears Hex swear colorfully, bringing an amused smile to his lips.

If her speed is any indication, she is only almost done with her hacking. It is a fact that brings about her sour mood once more. Matt knows that while Hex is not so much a sore loser as Mello is, she still intensely likes being upstaged, especially at the things she has proven to be very good at. Hacking is one of these things.

It is only after two slow minutes -having to have to listen to her grumbling- when Hex is finally done. He finds her to be wearing a very pronounced scowl. She tells him firmly, "I demand a rematch. Best eight out of fifteen?"

Matt chuckles warmly and her cheeks burn red. She glares bullets at him, trying to intimidate him into relenting. It doesn't work; Matt has already been subjected to this sort of stare from her and Mello too many times, much to Hex's dismay. As frustrated as she looks, Matt is not about to sacrifice rest for another five or seven hours of hacking just to please her.

"Hex, come on. Don't be so sour," he says in a placating manner. "Let's just call it even and quit. I'm tired, okay?"

She shakes her head in protest, her lower lip jutting out in a childish pout. Matt realizes that she is switching her tactics. If intimidation didn't work, then maybe sympathy-searching will. Unfortunately, Matt likes to think that he has more control than to let himself fall for the same bag of tricks he has fallen for before.

Hex says, "But I cheated in the first round, remember? That's not being on even ground… and I hate it. I want a rematch- just a quick one!- even if it gives you an ulcer." She bats her eyelashes at him prettily. "Please?"

Matt tears his eyes away from her. "Hey, you're great as you are, so no need to be so insecure. You're definitely high up on the list of the best hackers around-"

"But you're the best of the best," Hex says, poking him in his right cheek lightly. "And if I beat you… that'll be just awesome, you know?"

Matt's resolve remains firm. He pushes her hand away from him gently and meets her eyes. Hers are wide with faux innocence, but Matt can see the expectance behind them. He smiles. "You flatter me, Hex, really. But I gotta recharge my batteries or I'll collapse. Besides, you look just about as tired as I am."

Immediately, she drops she act, a frown replacing the sweet smile on her features. "You're no fun at all."

"Drop it, kid," he says. "You can't always get what you want."

"I can, and I will."

"Nu-uh."

"Yeah-uh."

"Nu-uh."

Their –admittedly- moronic banter ends just as the bedroom door opens. Hex does not look too happy with the fact that Matt has unofficially had the last word. She sends a suffering look to the wall. Matt only rolls his eyes, ignoring her. She will lighten up sooner or later.

Mello shuffles out the door with a muted, preoccupied look in his eyes. The blonde is walking with his usual swagger, but it seems to be more deliberate than casual. His footfalls are not as soundless, and Mello is looking slightly flushed. These might be little details, but Matt strives in his skill for observation, and all he has gathered tells him that Mello is not okay.

Frowning, Matt inquires, "You okay, man? You're looking… uh, rather icky this morning."

The blonde shoots him a dirty look, and mutters something decidedly nasty under his breath. Matt isn't at all affronted with Mello's attitude, but Hex –of course- is. She pats the brunette's hand and says calmly, "Mattie, Mattie, Mattie… you sorely lack tact. Watch how a real pro does it."

She fixes a piercing glower on Mello, and very tactlessly quips, "Melly-bean, you're looking especially unsightly today. What's crawled up your hide?"

"I need aspirin," Mello tells hoarsely, hobbling towards the kitchen.

But Matt tells him, "We're out, Mel. You took the last few two days ago, remember?"

Mello's lack of response tells Matt that he doesn't. The brunette has mind enough to know that Mello's lapse into bad memory is nothing more than a temporary side effect to his near-ceaseless vodka intake for the past few days.

The hacker sighs, and moves himself from under Hex's arm, sauntering over dutifully to his friend. He peels off his leather glove and presses his palm to Mello's brow, wholly ignoring the older teen's protests. Mello is shivering under his own sweat, hating the cold air of the living room.

With an unyielding calmness in his eyes, Matt mentally totals up the symptoms and categorizes Mello's problem to be just a fever. He glances at Hex for a little help, but he sees that she is studying them both blankly. It is as if she is hiding her turmoil, if any. She is picking lint off of her shorts, blinking lazily, when she says, "He's sick, isn't he?"

She puts up a façade of agitation for reasons beyond Matt's comprehension. Her words are cold, but completely empty of harsh intent. Maybe, this is her way of voicing her concern. Matt wouldn't know; as far as he's concerned, he's never seen Hex too concerned about anyone before.

"I told him not to take any vodka on an empty stomach, but did he listen?" Hex rants. "Noooooo, he chugs all five bottles down like he's dying the next week." She smirks snidely at the blonde, teasing him. "Now look at you. Having the time of your life, aren't you, Melly-bean?"

"The absolute best," Mello barks irritably. "Now shut up. I don't need you rubbing anything in my face."

"But… I told you so," she counters, blinking innocently as a wry smile spreads across her lips.

Matt decides to intervene before they begin another one of their many –loud- arguments. He clears his throat, steering Mello towards the couch. "Just get him some aspirin down at the drugstore, honey, please?"

She narrows her eyes at him, but swallows down any nasty retort that had threatened to spill out. She raises her hands at them in mock surrender. "Yeah, fine. Go be Mello's nanny. That ought to be so fun."

Hex hops off the shredded soda and heads to the door, picking up Mello's motorcycle keys on her way. She dangles the chain off her finger at Mello tauntingly, smirking cheekily. She and Matt are all too aware of how Mello dislikes anyone breathing on his bike, much less riding it. Hex intends to take full advantage of the fact that Mello is in no proper state to be threatening her to agitate him.

The hacker rolls his eyes, watching her exit the door, still swinging the keys around her index finger.

There is only a breath's moment of silence before Matt is subjected to one of Mello's darker glares. Matt knows it is only because he has done nothing at all to stop Hex. He wants to comment that materialism is something stupid to get so riled up about, but decides against it. Mello has always been like this about certain things he owns, like the red and black crucifix he keeps in a little padded box. Mello, and the word 'share' hardly ever come together.

Still, Matt says, "Ease up, Mel. I doubt she'd wreck your bike. Otherwise, she'd need a ride to get back here."

The hacker tunes Mello out just as he starts ranting about what a bitch Hex is, or how idiotic Matt is. Geez. With Mello's antics being akin to a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum, Matt thinks Mello should consider being a superhero. Brat-man, or something. With a flaming red cape blowing with the wind, and outer underwear.

Matt wouldn't mind buying a copy, if it ever becomes a comic book.

"- What possessed you to even think she'll take any fucking order? Just -"

Matt blinks, shaken out of his reverie. "Whoa, slow down, Mel. What?"

The older teen's scowl deepens. "What makes you think that Hex would be so kind as to run a little errand, just because it's you who told her to?"

He raises an eyebrow. "What does being me have to do with anything?"

Mello grunts irritably. "I'm not blind. Everywhere I look, you're right next to her- and she doesn't even bitch at you much. She even treats you like a person…You two talk like you've known each other for years."

His lips pull into a grin as he adjusts his goggles, letting it sit on the top of his head. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Melly-bean?" He uses Hex's favorite pet name for the blonde, and he watches Mello almost cringe at its absurdity. "You're being ridiculous, Mel. Doesn't she treat you like a person too? …Or is 'treating people like people' uh, subjective?"

"It's stupid," the blonde mutters. "I don't know how she does it, but she makes everything subjective. She…treats me like an incompetent fool."

The younger teen hides his disapproving look, knowing all too well that Mello will not appreciate it. "You've known her for three years now, Mel, and you're smart. I would've thought you'd have figured out a way around her already. Hell, I know her. It's not going to be easy, but it's worth it."

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Mello says in a rather suspicious manner. "You seem to be... well acquainted with her. Not to mention, you had 'just so happened to' have a homing device with her DNA on it lying around back at Wammy's. How do you explain that?"

Matt's smile is tight. "We're acquainted. "

"But how? You two seem… awfully close." Mello's tone is innocent, but Matt is not buying it. The older teen's eyes are sharp with poorly disguised suspicion, and maybe… jealousy? How odd. Matt can easily understand suspicion, but for what reason would Mello have to be jealous? Unless…

Unless Mello truly is jealous.

It would make sense, now that he thinks about it. He knows that Mello has a love-hate relationship of some kind with her, and that he has an odd, bipolar sense of affection for her. He may even like Hex. The idea is plausible, and has Matt thinking.

He has seen the way Mello will watch her at sporadic moments –especially when she has her eyes and attention turned away from him. And Matt knows that Mello will call her when she is away, and that he will hover over her at times when she finally returns after too long a trip. Mello is subtle, but Matt is not specialized in observation for nothing.

Grinning mischievously, Matt asks, "What's it to you?"

Mello scowls. "Don't be an ass, Matt."

"We've known each other since we were… I don't know, about three," he answers casually. "We were pretty close."

He imagines the wheels turning in Mello's tired head. Matt knows that Mello knows –more or less- almost all there is to know about him. And Mello knows that Matt has been brought into Wammy's when he was three. And if he's known Hex since then, that would mean… "Hex was a student at Wammy's around the time you were brought in." Mello's words sound more of a statement than a question, but Matt says nothing.

But it is amazing what one could learn with even the slightest bits of information. Mello, despite his fever, is still brilliant in pointing out facts and making reasonable guesses.

"You two probably hit it off back then, and have kept in contact ever since," Mello says. "That would explain why you were able to trace her so easily… Hm, her name wasn't on the recorded list of all the fourth generation students, so this would mean she was either first, second or third generation."

Mello leans back into his seat, rubbing his temple thoughtfully. "She was given the L code, and not the standard code, since it hasn't been introduced until seven years ago… But I'm still wondering why the name 'Hex' didn't turn up on any of the records of Wammy students in Roger's office. Her files only said she was Aiber and Wedy's successor."

"Great deducing, Mello," Matt praises, wearing an uncomfortable smile. It may be a ridiculous thought, be he feels like Hex might be listening in on them. Or maybe it is just paranoia. He knows that at the direction the conversation is heading to, Hex –if she ever finds out- will definitely slaughter him.

Hex has never liked talking, hearing or even touching things that had any connection to her Wammy student days- and with good reason. There are reasons why she scorns L and Wammy's so much. Exploiting these reasons isn't right. She isn't Matt's story to tell, and it is taboo anyway.

A betrayal of trust… But… what harm will telling Mello do?

Unless Matt is missing something, there is nothing Mello will be able to gain with knowing what Hex had been like then. Mello may be using Hex –and quite possibly, Matt as well- but Mello is first and foremost, his best friend.

So Matt attempts to quell the flames of worry that are suddenly spreading in his stomach.

"The file you were reading was her file as Hex… She went by another name back at Wammy's; X." Matt shrugs awkwardly, averting his eyes from the blonde. "Uh, you know… the one from the first generation."

Mello's reaction would have been amusing, if Matt didn't feel so uneasy. It is ironic, that someone Mello has been complaining about for who knows how long, is turning out to be one of the very few people Mello has practically worshipped in his younger days at the Wammy's House.

Hex had been X, one of the trio of children to have ever been instructed by L to work on a case. Hex was X, the orphan who'd been involved in one of Wammy's historical events: the Detective War.

A question fires at Matt. "You knew that I've read the wrong file. Why didn't you tell me?"

Matt resists the urge to flinch. "I didn't think the right file had been there until I bothered to check- and that was the night I left Wammy's. It didn't matter anymore if you've read the right file or not at that point- I knew you were already with Hex. You didn't need it."

The blonde's eyes narrow. "The file's contents might have been useful to me, Matt. Why didn't you mention this anyway?"

"I told you; it didn't matter," Matt says. "If I had seen something worth mentioning, I would've already mentioned it. Don't you trust me?"

Mello doesn't answer, and Matt thinks he might as well have been punched in the gut. Matt had suspected it, really, but Mello's silence –that confirmation- had hurt anyway.

The hacker forces himself to smile. "I get it. Never mind."

He is thankful that Mello changes the subject, or he would have lost himself in thought again. Mello says, "You still should've told me."

"… It's not something Hex likes to talk about, so I respect that. What right do I have to say anything?" Matt returns. "I shouldn't be telling you any of this as it is. It'll benefit no one."

"It'll benefit me," Mello argues. "I'm after Kira, Matt, and Hex -whether she knows it or not- will help me achieve my goal. If I'm going to use her, and damn it, but I will, I need to know all there is to possibly know about her. I need to be aware of the way she thinks, her abilities, capabilities. Her strengths and weaknesses- everything."

Matt's left eye twitches, patience tested. "You read all that shit in her file already."

The blonde lifts his chin up defiantly. "You know that Wammy's doesn't keep anything more than vague details. I need to know what's important, and if I can't learn that from L, I'll learn from you."

His voice is level, but low. "Ask her. That way, you'll learn all you want."

"That's stupid," Mello hisses. "To ask her would give away my intentions- you know that. And she'd probably lie, anyway."

Matt's lips curl downward. "What makes you so sure I won't lie?"

"What makes you so sure you will?" the blonde retorts. "Come on, Matt. I have a right to know. She'll confirm my success. You know I plan on using her to her full extent, but I can't do that if I don't know what I need to know! I will learn her like the back of my hand."

And Matt is reminded of how he has lied to Hex when he has told her that Mello is in no way at all using her. It worries him, this conflict, because while Mello is his best friend, Hex is his first friend. He knows them both well, and he cannot just decide -in an unbiased manner- on who he should side with.

To side with Hex, there will be nothing to gain, and nothing but Mello's trust to lose. And if he sides with Mello, he will gain Mello's favor, assured protection from Kira, and he will not lose Hex's trust unless Hex finds out… And he plans for that to never happen, ever.

Mello or Hex?

Hex or Mello?

Who?

Matt's tone is quiet. "Why can't you just respect her privacy?"

His best friend ignores the question, and instead, says, "We've got time, and no need to worry. It's rush hour- and Hex won't be back until later… It'd be our little secret, Matt."

"Do I look like a snitch to you?" Matt asks, almost inaudibly.

Mello persists, staring him down. "She doesn't have to know. She won't know. Matt, there's nothing wrong with telling me what. I. Want. To. Know."

He bows his head, sighing, and finally relenting. "What do you want to know?"

"She left Wammy's," Mello says. "Why?"

The question has Matt sinking into his memories.

The first generation of Wammy children had been abandoned by L, the very person who had created them. Matt remembers how they all had been treated like robots or toys for play and prodding; expected to break so soon, expected to have faulty. The first generation had been nothing but a collection of prototypes and failed tests. L had wanted to know how far a mind could be filled, how far a human could go before he or she suddenly snaps, unable to withstand the pressure.

A –the A- had been the first of many to have ever had the guts to go against L. A had murdered himself for the sake of his fading sanity, and he had shown the rest of the Alphabet that they did not need to fall under the greedy, demanding claws of the L Code.

Matt remembers them L. There was B, who had sworn to surpass L, for the sake of proving L wrong. There was C, who had finally lost her sanity as she was discarded like last week's newspaper. And there was D, who stood up for himself, and had paid for it dearly. The destruction and chaos went further down the alphabet, one by one, like dominoes. But- there had been only three who had remained unaffected… at least, not until after.

X, Y, and Z. Matt's stomach churns.

The Alphabet makes everyone queasy enough.

Matt remembers Mello telling him that L had shared a few stories with him- the Detective War being one of them. Hearing Mello recite all L had said, Matt had quickly noticed how glorified everything had sounded. L had made the Detective Wars sound like something thrilling, something noble; something to be proud of. There was justice. Greatness. Nobility.

But L has never been noble. He was only a letter, and behind it, a man who had called himself a liar. L had only made the War sound great to stir Mello's interest, to have Mello obsessed with the idea of being a detective, obsessed with the need to be L, to be the best. And now? Obsessed, Mello is.

The Detective War had never been great, or justified- nothing to be proud of. True that, it was thrilling; X, Y and Z were the only three to have ever been selected by L to solve a case, and their names were now treated with respect. But the Detective War had been filled with little to no good intentions. Only needs to prove their self-worth, respect, and… to go against fear.

The War had been nothing but a race to the finish, a competition that had went out of control. It was to see who, between X, Y and Z, could solve their assigned case –ironically, it was to locate, and accordingly punish a group of terrorists, warmongers- first. They were all warned not to fail, and they couldn't be begrudged for being afraid that they might fall to the same fate as their predecessors.

It started out innocent; little taunts and warnings, threats before they realized that no time to waste. That was a chance to be number one, to be L's direct successor.

And then, they went all out. Z –who had played life like a game of chess- had called for the aid of the US military. Sacrifices were a given, and the casualties had reached to hundreds. It didn't matter. They were pawns under cruel guidance to success. Z didn't need the military when he'd be number one anyway.

Y –who was best with technology and aerial control- had sent for a platoon of trained suicide pilots to maneuver his way into winning. Matt still doesn't understand in which structure Y had planned everything- not many did.

And Matt remembers how ashamed Hex had been when she admitted that she had resorted to the mafia for help, and there she had first met Aiber, a con-artist who had actually worried enough for her to want to help. L hadn't been happy with how she went against the law, but then again, they all did.

It was ridiculous. L had pitted a trio of six year olds in a contest against each other, to see who had what it takes to be him. Either L had had his expectations too high, or he had already expected the outcome from the start. But the neither made sense. If he knew who'd win, why make a contest?

They were just children. They were supposed to be running out on meadows or playing with dolls or filling their coloring books with crayon.

In the end, Y had lost his life, and X had lost to Z. Matt remembers when Hex had told him of how proud Z was, how ready he had been to be welcomed back at Wammy's as Number One. He was expectant, even. Z had never been given a reason to feel otherwise.

They had returned to the orphanage and Z had been extremely disappointed. A new student, Near, had already taken Z's place from him. Z was no longer needed. He wasn't number one. Z was discarded, and he went insane. Matt had been there to watch Z be dragged away, kicking and crying and screaming.

X had appeared and disappeared at random moments from then on. Only during one night –either he had confronted her, or she had come to him- did she decide to tell him that she would be reassigned elsewhere, that she would find purpose without losing herself along the way.

Matt simply listened as she told him that she refused to trusting anyone too much–"I don't want to end up like Y… or Z, Mattie. Please understand," she said- and that she hated Wammy's. She hated Y for dying. She hated Z for leaving her. And she hated L.

X, no, Hex, had her belongings in a rucksack, and she was walking away just like that. Ahead in the distance, there was man that Matt just knows was Aiber.

She had told Matt, "I quit this. L isn't worth it."

It was a cold night, that night.

How to use V: A Shinigami can extend their own life by putting a name on their own note, but humans cannot.

Unbeknownst to them, a certain someone is listening in.

"She just… fell under the pressure of the Detective War, I guess," she hears Matt say. "Y had died, and Z won. When she and Z came back, they found out that they've been replaced... by us. The fourth generation."

"Yeah?" Mello sounds too interested for his own good.

"L wasn't happy with either of them, but Z, at least, had an excuse from punishment. Z just lost it. But Hex? L decided to strip her off of successor-ship."

"L wouldn't do that. It's too foolish."

"Well, it's not like we know what L would or wouldn't do. We don't know him, Mel," Matt says. "But Hex didn't think she'd do anything productive by sticking around-"

She's heard enough.

Biting down her anger, she tears her earpiece away from her ear by its wire. Her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. Hex is seething, shaking with anger, hurt, and most apparently, betrayal.

She just knew it would happen one day. Honestly, what was she even thinking? Why did she –completely disregard Aiber's warnings about people- trust Mello? Why did she trust Matt? If it is just because Matt's supposed to be the first person she's ever bothered to befriend, then she has been so stupid.

And Mello? She -naively- had placed her trust in Mello because she-

Hex would rather not finish that thought. It doesn't matter anymore, anyway. It seems that Matt and Mello intend to be selfish. Matt only does things to assure his own safety, Hex knows. Matt feels more assured that he will not waste away, bleeding on a roadside if he chooses Mello, rather than her. The hacker feels safer.

And it is only nature, to flock towards safety.

But Mello.

He has all but admitted that he has been using her –and still is!- for the best of his cruel intentions. And that is only the tip of the iceberg; who knows what Mello has planned for her? Hex suspects that Mello will have her bait Kira. She knows of her own notoriety in the underworld. Kira would never hesitate to be rid of her.

It looks like all Mello has said and done weren't genuine. Her getting shot, his getting in the mafia, the beheaded boss, his warmth, reassurances- it all was a part of his ploy. Hex has been feeding him all he has wanted to know. Information, techniques, skills- all of it. He has been manipulating her all along.

And she shouldn't forget; Matt had been the one to send Mello to begin with.

From the sounds of it, Matt is aware of Mello's intentions with her. Other than giving weak excuses, he hadn't done a damn thing against Mello. "Loosen up. Mello's a good guy, I swear. He cares." Matt's words are still etched in her brain. Apparently, backstabbing and lying can come from even the sweetest of people.

It is funny- he is a better liar than she has first given him credit for; she wouldn't have swallowed his lies down otherwise. Hex would not chance lowering her guard and underestimating him again. Wait-

- Underestimation.

Her eyes widen in realization. They underestimate her! Her! Hex isn't sure if she wants to laugh or scream. She hates being scoffed at, or being so little in anyone's eyes when she knows she is capable of blowing their brains up. Literally.

But Wedy has trained her to make do with everything, and to use underestimation as an advantage over her opponents. Underestimation may be something she has never tolerated, but Wedy's advice to has worked well for Hex countless of times before. This shouldn't be any different.

What Hex lacks in tactical expertise, she will makes up in resourcefulness and spontaneity. Although she has no plan in her hands now, she knows what she must do.

Get even.

She has been duped. Cheated. Lied to. She is being used. By Mello. And Matt fucking swore to her that Mello'd never do such a thing. Hex is angry, hell yeah. But more than anything, she is hurt, and she doesn't know how to deal with it other than retaliating. Maybe she'll feel better afterward. Revenge is the best motivation, after all.

An eye for an eye.

Hex runs a hand through her tresses in frustration, fisting and pulling roughly- a vain attempt to fight off her oncoming migraine. Her eyes travel from the door, to the counter, and then finally, to the earpiece in her hand. She chews on her lower lip fervently, now on edge. A voice in her head suggests that maybe, it would be best if she makes a habit of listening in on them.

… But that wouldn't be a fair game now, would it?

Heh. She is a criminal, a fraud. Why should she care? It has been ages since she has felt so intellectually challenged.

She will play Mello's game, but subtly. Hex will not make her move until the opportune moment rises, or she'd blow everything up. This means that it would be in her best interests to pretend she has not heard a thing at all.

Hex will keep everything as it is- a sick cycle. She will pretend everything is alright, and she will eventually obtain all the information she might need. Then. Then, Hex will turn the tables against Mello, and maybe even Matt, and she will have revenge. She will feed them to the wolves and watch them, watch Mello fend for himself.

She will show them why exactly they should never trifle with her.

She'll hurt them like they have done her, but with flair. With patience.

Exiting the pharmacy door, Hex decides to just forget the bottle of aspirin on the counter.

TBC

Glossary:

(1) Daisy chaining: it's a technique good hackers use to avoid getting caught. It more or less involves gaining entry to a network/computer and using it to gain access to another, then another. This technique is usually used to backtrack and get away with database.

(2) Raster burn: Eyestrain brought on by too many hours looking at low resolution monitors.

A/N: Suspense has returned. *throws confetti* I was getting sick of all the happy, almost-fluff. Ahem. From here on out, you can count on Matt having a major role. Soon enough, I'll be pulling Near… and certain others into this.

Also, hope you liked my take on Wammy's first generation. Hex needed some reason to scorn Wammy's like she does.