Mello stood in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at himself carefully. His blond hair was dripping wet from the shower he had stepped out of minutes before, having only time to pull on only his leather pants before his attention was caught by the steamed up mirror and his reflection in it.

It was 10:00 p.m. now, maybe a week or two since Emily had blown up at him…not that he was counting the minutes since she had deigned him worthy of words and her voice.

He still couldn't forget what she had told him that day…

"My whole life was wrong! Or did you forget about my damn scars, Mello? Did you forget how I got them? Did you forget what I've lost? You haven't lost ANYTHING in your life, except to Near! When you lose something, then you know what wrong is, Mello. But until then, YOU can't preach to me."

He gritted his teeth as he bent over the sink, wondering where –and maybe why- he had gone wrong. Had he been this way at Wammy's? No, of course not…He had actually been a sweet kid, if his memory served right. A smart student, a good athlete, the perfect example, the popular kid- perfection itself. Well, almost. Ever since L died, ever since the ultimate contest with Near began…his hidden side had reared its ugly head. The hidden side that he had allowed no one to see until that day when the words, "L is dead." Was uttered. Back in his Wammy days, no one had even the reason to think that he was as Emily had said- bitter, jealous, selfish, cold and unchanging- except maybe Emily herself…

He hadn't realized it then but now he knew it was true- whenever she had been in a ten-foot radius, he had found himself acting more like himself, not the kid everyone wanted to see. It seemed like Emily had that effect on everyone, now that he thought about it more.

"It doesn't matter…she'll never see…"

She will never see that I HAVE been wronged in more ways than one…

Mello let himself slump into a sitting position on the floor, thinking about the various words that would forever haunt him, up until the day he died. Words he heard his whole life, words that reminded him how inferior he actually was to everyone else.

"You're no good."

"Worthless."

"Trash."

"Useless."

"Inferior."

"You're a failure."

"Unworthy."

"You're a freak."

"They hate you."

"Unwanted. Un-needed."

And also…

"Nothing I do is good enough for you, huh, M? I don't care- at least I have a future outside of being jealous."

He scowled at himself as he leaned against the sink, letting these negative thoughts abuse and plague him and his hard heart, knowing that there was no way to stop it as he closed his eyes.

"Mello? What are you doing?" A soft timid voice came from the doorway. Mello slowly opened his eyes and focused on the small form in the doorway.

Emily.

Her head was tilted, brows furrowed, eyes full of questions as she gazed at him. "Are you o.k.?"

"Get the fuck out of here."

"…No thank you. I'm only getting some tissues…I'll be gone in a minute anyways."

It was then did Mello focus fully on the eyes hiding behind the dark side swept bangs and realized that they were soft and dark and wet from the tears that were still falling and staining her gray cotton thigh-length nightdress. He had the plain sense to cock an eyebrow and Emily did her best to smile as she whispered, "I was watching a movie about a little girl who lost her parents and had to be in an orphanage. I didn't know that it'd be a tearjerker…Amy said that it would be good."

But…that's a lie, Mello. I know you know that, too. You probably know that my stupid guilty conscious won't let me go to sleep without crying over not apologizing…Even though it was all your fault. She thought as she stared at him, growing concerned as she observed how his skin was pale and he was sweating a bit, almost as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.

"You look ill, Mello. Are you o.k?" She asked, forgetting about her tissues as she crouched down and felt his forehead. It was burning to the touch. He grunted in response, "Leave me alone."

"No, Mello, you have a fever…"

"When did you start caring, girl?"

That question caused Emily's hand, which had been checking his forehead, to retreat as she mumbled, "I honestly don't know, but that doesn't matter now- you could be really sick…"

Mello was silent, waiting for her to give him a long speech about how he should care more about his health, that he'd die sooner if he didn't. Emily must have saw the expectation in his eyes, for she summed up the speech Mello had been anticipating in one sentence- "It'd be terrible and humiliating for you if a cold held you back from catching Kira."

"I don't care."

"Well, I do. And I don't care if you hate me for it, but I'm at least bringing your fever down." She declared as she stood and grabbed a washcloth, turning the sink knobs and wetting the cloth before crouching again and holding it to Mello's head.

While she sat and nursed him with only a damp washcloth, Mello's gaze traveled to Emily's scarred arms, up to her shoulders and then to her face, wondering how she kept herself together when she should be falling apart.

"Emily…Were you ever told that you were nothing?" He glanced at her eyes, wondering if she'd get angry or something of the sort.

"Of course…Dozens of times! My foster parents never left the house in the morning before telling me how worthless I was. Not to mention all of my classmates…" She replied with total nonchalance that surprised Mello immensely.

She glanced at him and smiled, "I don't care anymore- I always knew that I was better than what they said."

Emily lowered the washcloth, her eyes widening as Mello grabbed her arm gently, looking at it closely, as if he was trying to discover the reason why the scars were even there, dancing on her arms.

Emily stared at him in confusion, pulling her arm away softly and whispering, "They're only scars. You know what they look like." She held her arm to her as a mother would cradle her child- gently, lovingly and with the caution of fearing that it could break if a mistake was made. "Everyone has at least one scar. Even you, Mello. But…"Emily gazed at her knees, her dark hair shielding her face as she whispered, "Your scars are maybe deeper than mine will ever be…You just see previews of my real scars, the scars on my heart, when you look at my skin. With you…there's no warning to what pain lies underneath…No warning about your real pain at all…"

She stood before leaning down and offering her hand to Mello, asking, "You can stand, right?" He took her hand, wondering what was about to happen. Emily smiled up at him reassuringly as she pulled him front of the mirror, saying, "We're total opposites on the outside- we both know that." Mello nodded, briefly acknowledging the major contrasts between them- she was slightly thinner and shorter, his hair was considerably lighter than her black hair and while Emily had perfect pale skin, Mello was a more peach color. (And let's not forget the gender differences, shall we?)

"But look. We're more similar than you know." She said, tapping her finger on the part of the mirror that held the reflection of their eyes. "We both have blue eyes and if you look closer…you see anger, determination, ambition, impulsiveness, bravery and….sadness. Hurt. Pain. Things we never let anyone else see."

She slowly let Mello's hand, which she had been absent-mindly holding, go as she continued, "We're also both angry at something. For you, it's Near and failing. For me, it's my past…"

"And your brother leaving you." Mello whispered, glancing at Emily as she lowered her head, sniffled and then raised her eyes to meet Mello's, her eyes full of resolution.

"Ryan could have saved me. He had the chance- he just didn't." She replied slowly, as if she was deciding what to do next.

She turned away, her hair swinging away from her back long enough for Mello to notice that the burns on her back actually spelled out words. His eyes widened as he recognized them, despite them being barely legible.

Emily glanced back at him, slightly confused before she chuckled sadly. "Here- I'll show you what my back says, if you want to know." She said, a bit humiliated as she motioned for him to unzip her nightgown enough to see what had been written on her back with cigarettes.

Mello stood, frozen with surprise as he read the all too familiar words on the back of Emily, whose face was putting a tomato to shame because of how modest she really was.

You're no good.

Worthless.

Trash.

Useless.

failure.

Freak.

We hate you.

Unwanted. Un-needed.

"My back…it must look like your heart…" Emily whispered as she stared at the mirror, seeing Mello's surprised and slightly angered expression reflected in the glass. He ignored her words as he asked, angered, "Did your damn foster parents do that to you?"

"Yes…But they're dead now, so don't even think about getting revenge on them. That was my job before BB took care of them…I didn't believe in inner demons before I met BB…whenever I thought of demons, my foster parents always were there…They were outer demons….Mello, can you please zip me back up? It's kinda cold…"

Mello slowly zipped the nightdress up, his knuckle brushing the back of her warm neck, causing her to shudder for reasons she had yet to fathom. "You have inner demons, Mello. At least, I think you do. I may be wrong. And I'm sorry if I am….There. I said my apology for the other night." She said awkwardly, rolling her eyes at Mello's cocked eyebrow.

"You know what I mean by I'm sorry, Mello."

"…You're confusing, girl. Saying something that I think was you trying too hard to be heartfelt and then you adding in a random apology for two different occasions." Mello said, smirking as Emily crossed her arms and almost glowered at him, saying in reply, "At least I know how to be heartfelt."

Mello chuckled before reaching out and pulling Emily into his arms, watching her eyes widen and her lips stutter, "W-w-what?" As he held her close, he whispered, "Thanks for trying for me."

"M-m-Mello! Are you sure you're o.k.? This isn't like you, a-at a-all." She mumbled, face redder than a neon stop sign as she looked up at him, eyes still wide. It was almost as if Mello snapped back to reality since he let her go fast and coughed, shocked with his own actions.

Emily looked up at him, face putting her scarlet highlights to shame, as she whispered, "I guess it's my turn to be impulsive, huh?" With that, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, first on the cheek then on the lips.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Each time soft and sweet, each time surprising both of them as Mello returned the kisses, each time a bit harder than before. Their moment ended when Emily pulled away abruptly and whispered, "Um…Goodnight, Mello." Doing a mock salute before she opened the bathroom door and walked out, dazed, and yet, smiling.

Mello stood in front of the mirror, alone once more, but for some reason, now whenever he looked in the mirror, he imagined Emily standing next to him, still holding his hand. He shook his head as if to get himself out of a daze, muttered, "I'm getting soft…" before retreating to his bedroom.

I just realized...Aly and A.J's album "Into the Rush." suits Emily really well!