Another update! Maybe a little unexpected for some? But seriously.. No, I won't go on, heh.. I wouldn't want to ruin the plot, after all :D Anyway, I don't own Death Note, or this would be my spinoff. Enjoy!

It seemed like hours that he was forced to stay, his back uncomfortably bent, lying across the seat of his car, his chest aching slightly from the harsh impact that even a bullet proof vest couldn't save him from.

After an age, he could no longer hear the sound of cop cars nearby; no longer sense the eyes that kept creeping to the bloodstained figure. Cracking an eye open, he slowly edged himself into a sitting position, rubbing his chest, finally glad that his blond best friend was paranoid about him getting shot, and forcing him to constantly wear the Kevlar vest underneath his trademark stripy shirt.

The fake blood probably helped though… Good thing no-one had thought to take a sample from the motionless body. That could've been chaotic…

He slowly stood, sadly surveying the damage to his car. With a low groan, partly of mourning, he patted the unfortunate vehicle once on the bonnet. Walking it was then.

Mello sprinted from the building as it went up in flames, his hand automatically going to the rosary that had permanently hung around his neck. He panicked, half-turning to run back to the burning building as he found it missing. No… He had to find Matt's body before anyone else did. He needed a proper burial… It was the least he could do for getting his friend into this mess.

He blinked away tears fiercely as he ran, barely noticing the burn in his muscles from his days sitting slumped underground coupled with the sudden burst of intense sprinting. Bloody Mafia… It took him an hour – by which time he had slowed to a more reasonable pace – to reach the mutilated red sports car. He smiled slightly, sadly, to himself, pacing up to it, before freezing.

No body. No Matt. Had someone found him? There was another moment of panic, while he hand flew to his chest to try and clutch at the non-existent cross again, before he studied the bloody smudges more closely. He tentatively touched it, then frowned.

Fake? Leaning across, he sniffed it, looking vaguely disgusted, before backing away again. Definitely fake… So Jeevas had escaped, had he? Damn… That would just make it impossible to find him.

Of course, that wasn't likely to stop the hot-headed young Mafia boss. He was willing to search Japan from top to bottom, if that's what it would take to find his partner in crime again.

At the same time, Matt stood nearby to a burning building, his quick eyes easily picking out the van, and matching it to the one Mello had been driving. Too close for comfort were other's, both from the Task Force and the SPK. Time for yet another getaway… Three was far too many for one evening.

Despite the knowledge of how dangerous and stupid it would be, Matt turned to head for the old, shabby apartment that he and his blond friend had shared before Mello had gone and gotten himself holed up with the Mafia.

Matt thought the name in disgust, breaking into a jog as he realised that on this street, with shops still open, he was getting far more strange looks than he was interested in receiving. Hadn't people seen a young red-headed man covered in blood before? More than likely no. But still…

The blond boy glanced around, trying to find some clue as to which way he would've gone, and finding none. The computer hacker was always far too careful to erase his tracks… Mello couldn't tell whether he'd picked that up from the short-tempered man himself, or from the hacking safety manual.

Was there even a safety manual for that? Mello swore inwardly at himself as his mind began to creep of on one of its many tangents. Being a genius could be hard, he had decided, none too modestly, quite a while ago. When he was fourteen, to be exact. When he'd left Wammy's.

He shook his head to clear it, deciding that now he was legally 'dead', he couldn't go back to the Mafia. There'd be far too much of a fuss… Damn. The apartment then? His old one. The one he had dragged Matt from, forfeiting his safety, and consequently leaving the two of them in this mess.

On the bright side… No, not the bright side. The slightly less dark side. On that side, at least he knew the game-obsessed red-head was alive.

Which was more than Matt knew of his best friend. He'd had to stop, his smoker's lungs weren't up to long journey's by foot… Admittedly, it hadn't bee such a long one, but the running had worn him out. Maybe Mello was right, and he did need more exercise… Huh.

Choosing a nicely secluded inset doorframe, Matt pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, expecting them to be as mutilated as his jacket. By some miracle, they were still entirely intact, and he pulled one from the packet – which he then stuffed roughly back into his pocket – and held it to his lips, before searching his pocket's for a lighter.

He dropped his hand from his mouth as he swore violently. It must've dropped out when he fell… Stupid bloody cops. He sighed quietly; or at least, quietly in comparison to his recent tirade of cursing. After a short while, he decided to shove the cancerous stick back into the pocket, aching sadly from his addictions going missing. Smoking, his car, Mello… Wait, no. Mello wasn't an addiction. Mello was… Mello.

Whatever. With that thought stuck impossibly tightly in his head, he set off again at walking pace towards the distant apartment, his expression glum, his face up to his nose tucked into the bloodstained fur of his in-need-of-replacement jacket to fend off the nightly cold. Or was it early morning?

Mello's thoughts were different, as he cussed loudly at the fact that the chocolate had deformed itself in his pocket from the heat of the fire. Peeling tiny chunks off the inside of the pocket's of his impossibly tight leather trousers, he continued to swear loudly, ignoring the odd glances he was receiving from people who would soon be wondering why a bloodstained nineteen-year-old was wondering through the street. Mello didn't care. He just needed his goddamn chocolate.

"Matt... I will find you."

"Mello… I'm sorry."

Both spoke in synchronisation, both sad for their own separate reasons. Both heading in the same direction.

Diabolic : Heh, official chapter one ends! Was it good? Bad? Review? I love teh reviews, and thankies to my two reviewers! Especially to Jacey Keehl, who not only had the first review to this story, but the first this account had ever had! Ever! Glomps to you, and I hope you enjoy chapter to come! That includes everyone! Heh, I'll be quiet now?

Mello : Excuse me, I'm not that weird about my chocolate!

Matt : And I am not addicted to Mello! Jeez, talk about OOC...

Diabolic : Hey, shut up! Both of you! Or I really will kill you... :D

M&M: :O *Mello draws gun* *Matt lights cigarette*

Diabolic : *runs* Anyway... Hope you enjoyed, please ignore future author notes if you don't want to see me conversing with anime characters... Heh.