A/N: Sorry guys, I know I said I'd be posting more chapters, but When the flu hits, the last thing you think of is writing. Anyway, I'm starting to feel better, so I wrote out another chapter...

Hope you enjoy (even if it is crappy)

Reviews appreciated.

(Matt P.O.V)

I took another drag from my cigarette. I hadn't known how I'd gotten so addicted to them. All I knew was that it helped cope with the pain.

I hadn't liked them at first. Damn near choked on the stuff when I started. But every time I thought of L, or Watari, and of course Mello… I desperately felt the need to smoke. I knew… I just knew, if Mello ever found out about it, he'd kick my ass into next week.

Even more, it was Torrik who got me into them. I usually had Mello around to help me deal with peer pressure, but since he wasn't anywhere near me, I gave in almost instantly when he said it helped with stress. Fucker tricked me. If anything, they were more stress than anything else. Always with the cravings, the twitchiness, and the constant need to have one on my person.

Roger had gotten angry when he found out about them, but when I wouldn't stop he demanded that I at least smoke outside. I had settled for the roof when he said this, since it was more than fair to the other kids. No smoke for them to inhale, nothing smelled. Everyone was happy.

Everyone but me.

I finished my puff, then put out the cig, walking back inside the building. How many months had it been since Mello left? No… how many years? I was eighteen now, my birthday come and gone. Still, not one sign from the blonde. Dammit! Why hadn't he contacted me!?

I know what you're all thinking. That I should've forgotten about him. That I should've let him go and started a new life. But what some of you fail to realize is…

I loved him.

It took a while for me to come to terms with that. For me to finally admit that I cared more for him than just a brother, or even a best friend. Even more… I never told him. I knew he cared for me, but on the same level? It infuriated me some days that I may never know that truth. But, even if he didn't… I'd still be there for him.

Near was the one to figure it out before me though. The little bastard actually came right out and said it…

I was sitting on the couch that day. Doing nothing but staring out the window.

The moment he came into my sights, I knew almost exactly what he was going to say.

"You really care for him, don't you?" It sounded more of a statement than a question.

I was on one of my withdrawal days so I was in no mood to speak to him. "What of it? You do too, even if he hates you."

"Matt, I see it in your eyes. You care for Mello in a way I myself can't. One would say you're infatuated with him, but I know the difference. You're in love."

I scoffed at him, not looking into his creepy dark eyes. "Please, Mello and I are just friends…"

"Then why tear yourself up like this? Why get into the habit of smoking and making yourself ill with worry? I know for a fact that the only reason you're doing any of this is so you can let go, but the truth is that you can't. Because deep down, you want him back."

I finally had enough of him.

It was the first time I'd ever been physically violent with anybody, but Near had deserved it… I suppose.

I picked him up by his shirt and brought him to my face. "Listen closely, freak. If I ever see you after today, you'll wish Mello were here to protect you again."

He didn't seem the least bit scared. "Understood, Matt."

I set him down and walked away then. When I knew I was out of sights from anyone… I cried. I cried until there were no more tears. I hadn't wanted Near to be correct, but he was. I had fallen for Mello, and now just speaking about him was making me angry. Dear lord, how much I wanted to just hide away and forget I existed.

I sighed then, grabbing my duffle bag full of clothes and hygienic crap like toothpaste and deodorant. My flight had just been called now, and I had to leave.

I had had enough of waiting for Mello to come back. I wanted to forget him for a while. So I planned a trip to Romania to see my father once again, and maybe find out more about my mother. After I apologized to Near for my temper, I asked if he'd be able to help me with this trip. He agreed and financed for everything.

The flight there was cramped and boring, but once we landed I was overcome with a sense of fear and anxiety. I had just realized what I was doing, and it scared me to think about what my father would do to me. I guess I could defend myself from him, but the thoughts and memories from when I was younger… I still shudder at them.

Well, whatever. There was no turning back from this.

Walking around on the streets I used to scavenge through, I realized how terrible my life was before Mello had found me. I had lived on streets of vomit and garbage, and yet, even to the kids that I saw now doing the same, it was normal to me. Or, it was.

I stuck out like a sore thumb there, too. I was clean, well groomed, and walked with good posture. Everyone else was staring at me in either fear, or contempt. I couldn't blame them. I had once done the same as a child. Watching the high and mighty like they were evil. I guess I was the evil one now.

I remembered my address vividly and had no problems finding the apartment I once shared with my dad. Only, it seemed a whole lot filthier to me than before.

I found apartment 12-1 without any trouble. It was like I was mechanical in the way I trailed through the halls. Of course, as a child, I had walked through them so many times to go out and get food and clothing, I suppose my subconscious was being my guide right then.

I stood at the door for a solid two minutes before knocking.

I waited for a good five minutes before the door cracked open slightly to reveal a pair of brown eyes. "Y-yes? W-w-who's there?" They asked in my native tongue.

This sounded like the old bugger, alright. However, there was a fear in his voice I hadn't heard before with him.

"Uh, Andrei Jeevas?" I answered back in the same language.

He perked a bit. "Yes. Who wants to know?!"

That was the tone I most remember.

"I… was wondering if I could come in. I just want to speak with you."

"Oh! What about?! And who are you!? Jesus, man, ANSWER ME!"

I sighed a bit and pulled off my goggles. Revealing my green eyes to him. "It's me, Mail. Just let me in, dad."

The brown eyes widened, then closed the door. I heard a series of clicks and chains rattle before the door fully opened and a man appeared before me. Haggard and grotesque as ever. I don't think he'd bathed since the day I left.

He tried to comb back his dark hair a bit with his hand, but it still remained mussed up. "Mail! Jesus kid I barely recognized you!" He pulled me into an unfamiliar hug. Had he truly missed me?

He looked at me again. "You disappeared. Where'd you go? What did you see? Please, come in." He ushered me forward into the smelly, rundown apartment. I had put my goggles back on as well, the light beginning to bug me. "Sweet mercy, how much you've grown! Whoever you were with took good care of you. I'd like to thank them…"

"This is new for you." I butt in. "I mean, no knives, no 'target practice'. It's almost like you care."

He folded his hands over his stomach then. "I… apologize for that, son. I have no excuse for all that I've put you through."

"Whatever." I said hastily. "I'm only here to talk. And before you ask, no, I'm not staying in Romania. I have to get back to England and… wait for someone."

"Oh… I… I see. Well, then, erm… what is it you want to speak to me about?"

I straightened up a bit. "I want to know about my mother. I want to know what she looks like, what her maiden name was… I want to find her. You're the only one I know who's seen and spoken with her, so fess up. Where would she be now?"

He didn't say anything. He only stared at me in a blank haze. It didn't look like he was on any drugs at the moment, though I could've been wrong. Still, he was acting very… twitchy.

"M-Mail… I… I can't…"

"WHERE IS MY MOTHER YOU ASSHOLE!?"

He covered his ears then, cringing away. "Forgive me. Please." He mumbled. "Your mother… she's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean by 'gone'?"

He wiped away a tear. "Your mother couldn't handle the pregnancy. She got sick and she… she…" He crouched a bit, holding his head. Like he was trying to forget a painful memory. "She died giving birth to you. I didn't want to tell you when you were so young… I didn't want you to think… it was your fault."

My stomach burned in anger and grief. "So… so you make me believe that she didn't want me!? That she… ran away, and left me to be your damned target!? YOU FUCKER!"

I stormed towards the door but my father tried to stop me. I think that's when my anger levelled almost perfectly to Mello's.

I grabbed my pocket knife and drove it into the bastards shoulder, making him scream in agony. I hadn't cared though. He'd lied to me, made me feel unwanted and unloved for years. And now he drops a bombshell like this!?

I took out my knife and ran out the door as fast as I could. I didn't care whether or not he died. I just wanted out of there. Out of that apartment, out of that street, that life, that country! I wanted to go home and hide. To forget this day.

I think my pain only intensified when I realized I had no one to run to when I got back. No L, no Mello. I was alone.

For the first time in my life… I was alone.