A/N: Yo! So I'm aware it's not Saturday, but I'm going to be busy tomorrow and won't be able to update...y'know, for someone who's supposed to update on Saturdays, I don't actually do it that much. XD
Anyhoo, this is the action chapter, and it's longer than the previous ones...I think. But yay! I'm not immensely happy with it, but that's probably because I've never written action before (ever), so please don't be too harsh! I do try...
The response to the last chapter made my heart glow like my newly-acquired lava lamp (except hopefully not neon green)! Thanks so much to:
PenguinxHero
CatatonicVanity
anicalaver4
aivlis1
LinkinPark X (Hello, fellow Briton! I'm assuming you're British because you also have half term...)
VampirePrinssess
Rainbow Fruit Loop
okamiotoko
and wishingbell! That's a massive increase from last time! *explodes into neon green goo of happiness*
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters. All credit to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Writing this is getting really tedious...
Chapter 4: Inadequacy
Matt glared at the man looming over him, earning yet another whack across the face for his trouble.
"Where is he?"
Matt spat viciously, noting distantly that there wasn't any blood in his saliva, thank God. "I don't know who you're talking about. Leave me alone!"
Another punch.
"Where is he?"
"I don't fucking know!"
Slap.
"Where is he?"
And so it went on.
As Mello twisted through the complicated mess of alleyways that led to his destination, he cursed. He cursed the baffling redhead, the maddening gang, the awful state of the road and Mello's own ridiculous sense of pride. He couldn't let an innocent get hurt because of him, and he hated that.
As he neared the warehouse where his former gang was based, Mello switched his train of thought to infiltration plans. Much as he was all for just barging in, shooting everyone in his path and dragging the Geek out of there, Mello had to admit to himself that the uneven numbers did kind of make that idea impractical. Wrinkling his nose, Mello decided on a more subtle option. He knew of a door in the side of the building that no one used very often, with minimal traffic in the corridors between it and the main holding rooms.
Mello just hoped the guy was in there. Coming all that way for nothing would have officially made that day the most annoying of his life.
Reaching the warehouse, Mello kept to the shadows and slunk around to the side of the building. Seeing the door he was to enter by, he reluctantly fitted a silencer over the muzzle of his gun. He wanted to keep this incognito.
After struggling stubbornly with the lock for a few moments, Mello gave it up as a lost cause and shot the lock open. The door swung inwards with a horrifyingly loud (to Mello, at least) screech.
Wincing and freezing in apprehension, Mello quickly checked around for any witnesses. Finding none, he pouted slightly and patted his gun reassuringly. He'd get to shoot some bastards soon enough.
As predicted, when Mello rounded the corner, he was met with a gasp of recognition and a half-call of alarm. The man didn't get to finish the first word.
Gingerly stepping over the growing puddle of blood, Mello continued down the passage, gun constantly ready.
Disappointingly, he only got to gun down four or five thugs before he reached the holding cells. Their security had become lax with his absence, as he'd known it would.
Knowing which room was occupied (as it was the only one with a guard), Mello sneaked up behind the oblivious man and shot him through the skull, catching him with his good arm before he hit the ground.
They really had let things go, Mello mused, disapproving, before he remembered that the situation worked in his favour.
Rummaging in the dead man's pocket for the keys, Mello continued looking around warily for more onlookers. Finding none of either and reminding himself that he had to hurry the hell up, Mello checked the corpse's jacket before getting frustrated and kicking the door down instead.
Looking back on it, Mello realised that probably hadn't been the best idea in the world, as the cell's inhabitant got the fright of his life.
Huffing with concealed relief while he paused in the entrance, Mello thanked the Lord that the guy he was looking for really was there, and relatively unharmed, apart from a couple of bruises on his face.
The redhead looked less grateful. "What the fuck do you want?" he spat, both the words and saliva, afterwards.
Mello was put out. "The least you could do is thank me. I risked my own ass to get you out of here."
"Get me out? You're the one that got me here in the first place!" the angry youth accused.
Mello was nonplussed, but decided to save it for later. "Look, we don't have time for this," he said, sauntering over and untying the rope that bound his former nurse's hands. "Let's get the hell out, and argue later."
The geek sniffed, looking away in disgust.
Rolling his eyes, Mello grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room, legging it down the corridor when it became apparent that the redhead was indeed going to follow him.
A shout from behind them alerted Mello to a pursuer.
Swearing in all the languages he knew, Mello hauled his rescuee down a sharp corner, pressing both of the against the wall in time for the first bullet to go whizzing past harmlessly.
After a couple more shots were fired, Mello peeked round the corner and fired once. The attacker collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.
However, Mello knew that his yell would have alerted countless others to his presence, and wasted no time in heaving the redhead out of the safe spot and down the corridor once again.
Mello ran ahead, dragging his panting charge slightly behind him. They were going to need to hurry up if they didn't want to be annihilated.
As if in answer to his thoughts, an enormous hulk of a man suddenly loomed up in front of them. Before the startled male could even draw his weapon, Mello had shot him in the knee, sending his crashing to the ground with a bellow. He didn't have time to finish him off.
"You...are...way...too good...with a gun...to be sane," the redhead gasped between gulping inhalations.
Mello didn't waste the oxygen to reply.
Finally, they bolted out of the door together, not pausing for breath until they were a good few streets away.
Mello leaned against a wall and concentrated on respiration. The newly-freed ginger slumped down heavily on the pavement and put his head between his knees.
After Mello had processed enough oxygen for his ears to stop ringing, he noticed the redhead was having trouble. He was taking in short, cut-off breaths and not exhaling at all.
"Hey, hey," Mello said, crouching down in front of the guy. "Don't go hyperventilating on me, okay?"
He wasn't taken any notice of at all, apart from a complete halt in the stranger's wheezing. The panicked youth gulped like a goldfish, unable to get his lungs working again.
Mello became desperate, almost slapping him, but opting for calming him instead. "I didn't just rescue you from a hostile building for you to die here, you know." It was only after the words came out that he realised they weren't very comforting at all.
Placing his hands on the other's shoulders, Mello smoothly straightened the redhead's torso until he was leaning back against the wall. "Contracting your lungs won't do any good," he explained. "You asthmatic?" he asked, if only to get they guy thinking about something other than his lack of breathing.
The goggled male nodded, finally dragging in a laboured, gasping breath.
"Okay, that's what I thought." Mello tilted the man's (though, at a closer look, he was really more of a boy) chin upwards so he could look the redhead in the eye. "Right, now breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly," he emphasised. "It'll feel inadequate at first, but don't panic and keep doing it until you feel your chest loosen up, okay?"
The youngster nodded again, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. He held it for a few seconds, and then exhaled gently through his mouth. The guy had almost definitely done this before, Mello noted.
After a few good minutes of this, Mello reluctantly got up. "Look," he said, "I don't want to hurry you or anything, but we've kinda got an entire gang hunting down our asses; we'd better get moving. We'll go back to your place, seeing as that's the only one we've got. You'll have to relocate in the next few days, though."
He helped the redhead to his feet, supporting him when he swayed. "Not far from here, we'll get there in five," he reassured him, if only to keep his breathing regular.
He really did not want to see this guy die, for whatever reason.
After nearly twenty minutes of false alarms and panicking, they finally reached the house.
Slamming the door behind him and leaning against it, Mello puffed out a long breath. Invalids were bloody hard work.
The redhead had recovered slightly, he realised, and obviously felt it safe to talk. "Why did you save me?" he asked, his voice rasping slightly.
Mello shrugged. "It was my fault you were in there, like you said before. I have pride, so I got you out," he explained briefly.
His self-appointed interrogator narrowed his eyes. "If you have pride, why did you grass me up in the first place, before pissing off and leaving me to get interrogated about the whereabouts of someone I don't even know?!"
Mello started, shocked. "What? I never did!" he denied vehemently, slightly insulted that the other would even consider such a thing. "They were asking about me, you moron!"
His contradiction was evidently not believed. "So how did you know where I was, then?"
"Good guess." Mello shrugged again.
The redhead tilted his head to the side. "So if you're claiming you had nothing to do with my abduction, how come you knew I was even abducted in the first place?"
It was a good question, but luckily one Mello could answer. "I came back here looking for my jacket. I left it behind before," he told him, tapping his sleeve for emphasis.
Matt nodded slowly. "Yeah, I thought you might. I still don't believe you, by the way. You had no reason not to rat on me to that little gang of yours."
"Of course I did!" Mello yelled, predictably getting angry, "You treated my wound, even if that was stupid of you, and you gave me a bed to sleep in, no matter how unwanted it was! Not to mention I was kicked out of 'that little gang of mine'," he muttered bitterly, scowling at the memory.
That caught the redhead offguard. "You were?" he asked.
Mello rolled his eyes. "Violent as they may seem, gangs don't usually shoot people and chuck them out onto the street for fun, you know."
The Geek stuck out his tongue in a surprisingly childish gesture. Recovering his maturity, he considered briefly before asking, "Why were you kicked out?"
Mello grimaced, not sure why he was even telling the dude everything. "I messed up on a job. The police caught us in the act and my accomplice got shot dead. I managed to escape unscratched, but without the goods. Obviously, they weren't amused."
The ginger smiled wryly, turning his head away. "What were 'the goods'?"
"It's better if you don't know that."
"Why are you even telling me all this?" Mello's own silent question to himself was spoken out loud. "Before, you wouldn't even tell me your name."
"Oh yeah," Mello remembered. He subtly turned the subject away from the danger zone. "I don't really like random strangers knowing who I am," he explained.
The redhead fell for it, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, I probably shouldn't have told you mine, either."
"If it makes you feel any better, I forgot it already," Mello told him.
"Oh." The guy didn't look like he felt any better.
"Ah, geez, if you want to be on a first name basis already, I don't exactly have a problem with that," Mello tried to console him, which he had never done before in his life. "I'm Mello."
The redhead surprised him by bursting into a fit of sniggers.
At a questioning raised eyebrow, he explained, "You, of all people, are called Mellow."
Mello scowled at him. "M-E-L-L-O, dumbass. It's an alias, and before you ask, no, you're not getting my real name out of me."
"I didn't expect it. I go by one too." The Geek smirked. Mello decided he didn't like his attitude. He soon lost the mocking expression, though, which made the blond less inclined to punch his lights out. "I'm Matt. Again," he reminded Mello, extending his hand for a shake.
Mello didn't take it, instead choosing to lurch up from his position slumped against the door and walk past Matt to his kitchen, slapping him on the shoulder on the way. "Yeah, whatever. By the way, Matt's a really lame alias. It sounds so normal!"
"Isn't that the point of an alias?" Matt followed him through the open door.
Mello ignored him. "Please clean this up," he said, pointing at the bowl of instant noodles that was still lying on the table. "One, it's disgusting, and two, it makes me nervous."
Matt shook his head, but obliged anyway. "Why would it make you nervous? Are you that much of a neat-freak?"
Mello snorted. "Hardly. But that's what told first me you were gone, so..." he trailed off, letting the unspoken words speak for themselves.
Matt froze, his back turned, before sighing heavily. "Why did you even care? None of the others did."
"I told you, I have pride. And what do you mean, others? The gang?" Mello interrogated, flinging himself down onto one of the two stools.
Matt seemed to realise he'd said too much. "...No," he admitted finally.
"Then who?" Mello demanded uncaringly, examining his fingernails.
Matt stayed silent.
"Look, I'm a stubborn bastard, so if you think I'm gonna give up on this, you're very wrong," Mello informed him, getting up and swivelling the other by the shoulders to face him.
Matt kept his eyes on the ground, a light flush staining his cheeks.
"Who?" Mello repeated.
Matt opened his mouth, but no words came out. Finally, he said slowly, "When I was about eleven, my family abandoned me. I wasn't ever really wanted, and I was mistreated, but...they were my parents, you know? I...didn't love them exactly, but I looked up to them. They were all I had. And then they just up and left."
Mello regarded him without sympathy. There were much worse sob stories around. "And so? What does that have to do with me?" he asked callously.
Matt finally looked him in the eye, glaring at him through thick orange lenses. "You up and left too."
"And? I'm hardly a member of your family. We don't even know each other!"
Matt looked away again, frustrating the blond. "I don't know, I...I don't really know what I expected, but I guess – I guess I thought you were different."
Mello was confused. "But why would you even think that I'd stay?"
Matt shoulders drooped even more. "I didn't. I just...didn't exactly expect you to hit me in the face and run away."
Mello winced. "Oh, right. Whoops. Sorry about that, I was a bit grumpy that morning."
Matt didn't answer.
Mello placed a finger under his chin and tilted it up. "Oi, look at me. I said sorry, didn't I? I haven't apologised to anyone for five years; you should feel grateful."
Matt didn't bother to reply to that, changing the subject. "You're going to leave again, aren't you?" It wasn't a question.
Mello was stunned. "Of course I am," he answered finally.
Matt suddenly jerked away from the blond's hand and took a step back, the noodle-filled sink pressing into his back.
"Why would you expect anything else?!" the blond cried, exasperated. "We're complete strangers!"
"Just go now, then," Matt said bitterly.
"What?! Are you bipolar or something? I thought you wanted me to stay!"
"Well you're not, so there's no point in you being here any longer. I'm sure you have you're own place to move out of tomorrow."
Mello hesitated. "Actually, I don't."
Matt looked at him, surprise evident on his features. "Huh?" was his intelligent reply.
"My accommodation was provided by the gang. Not so much now, probably."
Matt blinked. "So you have nowhere else to go?"
Mello took a step back. "I really don't like where this is going..."
Matt grabbed his jacket sleeve. "I have pride too, you know! I'm not going to let you sleep on the streets for however long!"
Mello gaped at him. "Right, now I'm sure you're bipolar. Do you want me to stay or not?"
Matt gulped. "I...yeah. Yeah, I want you to stay. Just until you find a place of your own."
"Well, that's settled then." Mello shook off Matt's hold on his jacket and refusing to acknowledge to himself that he was pleased. "But don't go getting any ideas that this is permanent or anything. I don't do clingy," he warned, for appearances.
"I'm not clingy!" Matt denied. "I just have abandonment issues," he said smugly.
Mello rolled his eyes, exasperated. "At least you acknowledge that," he said sarcastically. "Anyway, where'll I sleep? Do you have a spare mattress?"
Matt paused. "Uh..."
"Really? I refuse to go on the couch."
"I wouldn't put you on the couch, anyway."
"So where am I going to sleep, then?"
Matt hastily made plans. "I have spare blankets, so I'll sleep on the floor on a pile of them. You take the bed."
"Why am I taking the bed?" Mello asked suspiciously, wary of being coddled.
Matt looked pointedly at his shoulder. "The floor probably won't do that any good."
"True. Fine, but when it's healed, if I'm still here, we'll take turns, alright? I'm not some kind of kid that needs nurturing."
"Sure, whatever."
Mello hesitated for a second before asking the question that had been on his mind for a while. "How did they know about you? The gang."
Matt sniffed. "They saw me with you in the street, followed me back home and apparently thought I'd know where you went to after. That's pretty much it."
"Did you tell them anything?"
"Nope. I didn't even know it was you they were asking about."
"...Thanks."
"No problem."
A/N: In case you missed it: MELLO SAID THANK YOU! O_O OMG, right?
Those of you who are confused about Matt's weird clingy-ness, hopefully thou shalt be enlightened in later chapters! :) Or maybe not...I dunno, this was hardd to write! *wails*