I do not own characters or Death Note.

I couldn't take it anymore. The nightmare was on a constant loop in my mind.

After what seemed like hours of staring out of the window, I pushed the covers off of me and sat up straight. I kept getting the feeling that something was going to happen, and I need to stop it. I would stop it no matter what.

I half walked half ran over to my closet to grab a sweater – it was cold outside and I didn't own a jacket. The moon had disappeared behind the purple clouds, casting a gloomy shadow across the bedroom floor.

Once I had put on my stripped black and white jumper, I found out my black leather boots and matching gloves and pulled them on too.

Two minutes later, I was running along the path towards the corner shop. My red hair whipped at my eyes, water trickled down my panic filled face.

I kept thinking over and over: where is he? I need to find him, where is he?

The rain started to run into my eyes, making my vision blurred. But I kept running, I would never stop until I found Mello.

I was panting by the time I reached the end of the road; the only way to go was through the alley way. He must have gone down here; he's too lazy to go the long way. So I slowed down until I was no longer jogging but walking steadily, being careful not to make too much noise.

Images of my dream kept flashing before my eyes; Mello with more cuts and bruises than I have ever seen. My lip juttered at the thought of him lying in this alley way somewhere, blood pooling around his fragile body.

But I kept searching; I looked under every possible place where he could be but always resulting with dirt, rubbish and rats.

I looked up into the never ending sky; I always thought life was like the sky – empty.

All my hopes of finding Mello had just about gone, but I continued to search.

I was shaking from the coldness and I was sure my lips had turned blue. My hands had stopped working and had turned a reddish colour causing me to grit my teeth together as the numb pain travelled up my fingers.

I was just about to give up all hope when I heard a muffled scream coming from the other end of the alley.

I whipped my head around to face the source and spotted a large shadow crouched on the ground. I slowly crept forward, placing my feet ever so carefully so I didn't make any sound. I could of been mistaken for a mouse.

As I got closer, the street lights illuminated the intruder and a smaller form underneath it. Mello.

At least he was still alive.

The beast moved slightly, allowing me to see what he was wearing; a bloodied vest with dark slacks and one of those stupid hockey masks that only mass murderers wore in horror movies. His coal black hair was tied up at the back and swung gently in the wind. His arms were huge, and the muscles rippled as his hands travelled over Mello's defenceless body. I gagged at the thought of this man's intentions and what he was doing to MY Mello. Fury built up inside of me, my vision going crimson at the edges and anger boiled in my blood. I reached out a hand at the nearest object beside me; a wooden plank with a few rusty nails in the end – that'll do.

Gripping the wood with both hands, I strode towards the man, still making as little noise as possible, and held the plank above his head.

Before I swung, I glanced down at Mello; he was limp, just lying there, staring up at the murky sky.

All life had vanished from his eyes as tears continued to race down his battered cheek. His shirt was filthy, ripped and covered in rose red blood from all the cuts he had suffered. The man had pulled his trousers down to his knees, revealing pale, shaking legs. His beautiful golden hair was now a muddy brown, covering his bruised eyes.

It was just like my dream, my nightmare.

The beastly man reached for his own pants, pulling at them slightly; a sick, twisted smirk covered his face. This made me lose my grip on sanity.

My hands dropped with such force that the wood splintered as it collided with his back. He cried in agony as the nails dug into his body; he lost his grip on Mello and rolled onto the ground. I screamed with rage as I continuously smashed the wood onto him, giving him no chance to recover. Blood started pouring out of his mouth and nose as I repetitively pummelled his skull.

"YOU FUCKING TOUCH HIM,"

Smash.

"AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU,"

Smash.

"YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!"

Smash.

I couldn't stop, well more like I didn't want to stop; there was blood dripping down my arm from the death hold I had on the wood but I couldn't care less.

I continued to bash the now limp man into a bloody pulp, my anger slowly started to slip away and I finally released the weapon.

It hit the ground with a clatter, breaking the eerie silence of the alley.

I kept still; head down, eyes screwed tightly shut, balled fists by my side. I took slow, deliberate breaths, trying to calm down enough to face Mello.

I turned around and peeled opened my eyes, avoiding the gory mess in the dirt, to face him; he was sitting against the wall with his legs tucked up in front of him so his chin could rest on his knees. His bangs shielded his face from my view and his bony shoulders shook as I watched tears run down his grubby arms.

"Mello?" I asked, walking ever so slowly towards him.

He remained silent.

"Mello, are you okay?"

His head snapped up,

"DO I FUCKING LOOK OKAY?" he screamed, tears came flooding out now as he sobbed.

I stood there, watching my best friend break down. What should I do? Walk away? No, I couldn't just leave him there.

Holding my breath, I took a step towards his pale figure, then another and another until I was standing directly above him. I bent down until I was in a crouching position and gently reached out a shaking hand. Since he didn't make any attempt to get away from me, I put my arms around his shoulders, barley touching him at first, and then pulled him into a tight hug. He adjusted so his face was against my chest, hands still covering his face, and he cried.

I don't know how long we stayed like this, but I didn't want to move.

Every now and again I would whisper in his ear "shh Mello, it's going to be okay. I'm here for you." And he would reply with a nod, tears gradually slowing down.

And we fell asleep, my arms around him and his head buried in my neck, I'm never letting him go again.

When I woke up, I had to squint against the morning sun. It cast a subtle glow across the damp ground bringing a small smile to my face. The sun always had that effect on me.

I looked down to find Mello asleep in my arms and blushed, making my heart beat double in speed.
Then everything came back to me as I studied his battered face and my smile instantly dropped; I searched around the lane and when my sights landed on a crumpled body on the floor, it only confirmed my suspicions.

I carefully got up from underneath the sleeping boy, careful not to wake him, and hesitantly walked towards the smashed up man.

It was when I reached his side that I noticed the damage I had inflicted on him; his face looked like a three year old had moulded it out of clay, his body was twisted up with a few obvious broken bones and his head had a huge gash funning from his right eye down to the bottom of his cracked lips.

Dried blood covered every inch of his being, and I looked down to find blood-splats covering my own torso.

I felt physically sick, but he deserved every bit of this.

Just to make sure I hadn't committed murder, I uneasily bent down and rested two fingers against his neck; there was still a pulse. Good.

I took one last look, knowing I'd probably not be able to relax for the next month or two, and walked back over to sleeping Mello.

I scooped him up in my arms, bridal style and strode out into the light, hopefully leaving all the bad memories behind.