"You surrender your heart,
I surrender every dream,
Every weapon you've got,
Every secret that I keep,
You can fight this all you want,
But tonight belongs to me"
-My Chemical Romance, Surrender the Night

Goodbyes were something that, to an orphan, began to take on the role of being a regular occurrence. It was beginning to seem that there was no way to escape it. No matter how hard someone was to try, they could never escape the word: goodbye.

The goodbye between Matt and Butterfly was not one of many words professing one another's feelings. It mostly consisted of silence and the sensation of being wrapped up in blankets, just holding one another and listening to the sounds of Wammy's House. The melody of Wammy's was the sound of Roger's shoes clicking against the hardwood floors, the sound of children stifling giggles and talking about grades, floorboards squeaked as the large building settled. It was a beat they heard every night, but something about this time made the noises more sacred.
As Matt pulled in a breath, Butterfly released hers, her head against his striped clad chest. The thump of his heartbeat played in her head on repeat, a sound she treasured.

No more tears were shed from her eyes, for they all had dried up as she forced the words out. The words had been taken by a solemn look and a tight embrace. However, there was emptiness in her soul and an ache in her heart that was foreign to her. Throughout her life, Butterfly had felt many types of pain. She had the bitter ache of loneliness and the stings of physical pain memorized. The burn of disappointment and rejection were also members of her lexicon. This new pain was a bit of loneliness and something else she couldn't quite put a word to.

Slowly, Matt moved his hand from the female's side into her raven black locks, feeling the softness of her hair. No words could describe how empty he was beginning to feel. Plans and ideas swirled through his brain as he held the girl he gave his purity to close to his heart, feeling every breath she took. He would not be able to join her. That much was obvious. Nor would he leave Wammy's in search of Mello. Mello's whereabouts were a mystery to Matt and Matt didn't know if he would be able to survive alone at his age. He wasn't Mello; he wasn't some unstoppable force with an agenda. Matt was just Mail Jeevas, that was it.

It would take Mail Jeevas many years to realize that to Jaclyn Burnside, he was the greatest gift the world would offer.

It would take her many years to realize that as well.

"Matt," she spoke softly like the glow of a candle at midnight's final stroke. Matt's eyes met hers; his face was free of his goggles which rested on his nightstand.

"Yeah?" he asked, continuing to run his fingers through her hair absentmindedly.

"Do you think we'll see each other again?" her question was asked in a faint voice, like the gentle breeze of the wind. Matt thought for a moment.

"I... don't know..." the statement couldn't have been closer to the truth. Everything in their future was a blank slate. With Kira tugging on the strings, anything could happen to them. But with Butterfly under Near's guidance and Matt under Mello's, there was a chance that their paths would meet once again.

"Okay... but I want you to have something..." her voice was now one full of heavy emotions and some sudden desire that Matt could not comprehend. Her body wiggled a bit as she tried to get out of Matt's arms. Once he registered this want, Matt dropped his arms to his sides giving her freedom to move as she pleased. With a small smile to stand in for a "thank you", Butterfly slide off of Matt's chest and stepped off the bed onto the floor. A small shudder rippled through her as her bare feet touched the cold ground, but she shook it off and her icy blues began to dart around the room. After a few moments, it appeared she had found what she had been looking for and she bent forward and picked something off the floor. Curious, Matt cocked his head to the side as she strode forward with that strange bear/dog thing she always slept with every night. And since she had been spending the last few nights with Matt, she had left the creature in his room. With a small leap, she landed beside him, the bed squeaking a bit as she landed. The dark-haired girl looked down at the stuffed animal, meeting it dead in the glassy black eyes. As stupid as the thought was, Matt thought it looked as if the two were communicating.

Butterfly looked over to Matt before extending her arm which held the stuffed creature.

"Here, I want you to have Baby, to remember me."

Matt was taken aback. Baby was Butterfly's companion, her dear heirloom of the times before. Never would the auburn-haired child imagine that she would be handing the toy over to him in such a manner.

"No I..." he refused. "I don't need something to remember you by. I'll never forget you..." That made Butterfly smile. Matt had to admit that when she smiled like that, it made heat rise to his face.

"But I insist," she pressed, moving the creature closer to the boy. Matt sighed a bit, realizing that refusing her wouldn't work. Butterfly was like Mello in that way; relentless. Slowly, giving her time to back out, Matt reached over and took the multi-colored creature into his hands, gently as if he were holding a porcelain doll.

"It's only fair if I give you something in return," Matt stated as one of his hands plunged into his pocket.

"There's no ne-," Butterfly began. But Matt cut her off.

"But I insist," he said with a smirk, causing her to laugh a bit. The hand that had been fishing around in Matt's pocket pulled out with a small green colored object. Butterfly didn't have an inkling what it was until it was pressed into her hands. It was a gaming cartridge for a Pokémon game.

Somehow, it was so cheesy.

Somehow, it was perfect.

The night after Butterfly left, Matt slept with the stuffed animal. Butterfly had always claimed that it smelt like strawberries. Matt didn't agree.

It smelt like her.

-

Sometime later
The United States of America

Mello could feel the adrenaline racing through his veins as he slumped down on the worn bed in his motel room. The bed gave a groan of protest and exhaustion, implying that it was almost ready to end its life. Sweat ran down Mello's face as his hands trembled from the amount of adrenaline that had bombarded his system. The small room he had been sleeping in for the past few months was only illuminated by a single light fixture that contained a single flickering bulb that buzzed softly.

The room was not grand. The bed was ready to collapse and was covered with tacky flower bed that itched. The pillows all smelt strongly of cigarettes and were heavy and lumpy. The chipped nightstand beside the bed held a lamp with no bulb and an alarm clock that also served as a very staticy radio. The drawer on the nightstand contained a bible with a faded cover which Mello had taken out and read over the last few days. There was a dresser that had an old TV mounted upon but there were very few channels that came in clear. The drawers of the dresser were stuffed with the clothes Mello had brought with him and the ones he had bought when he began to get too big for them. Bargain stores were full of useful things.

The floor of the room was dirty and smelt questionable but it was the best Mello could get for the time being.

This won't last for long... he thought as he looked down at the metal lock box on the d\ground near his feet. Revulsion swam in his stomach as a coppery scent filled his nose. Mello wouldn't admit to anyone that he cried a bit at that moment.

Not because he was sad or in pain.

But because he could feel what was left of that child inside him trying to slip away.

-

Stern eyes took in the figure of the boy that resembled a girl. The boy had guts, he was just full of nerve.

"Well, what do you have for me, kid?" the man barked at the male who called himself "Mello". The name was obviously an alias but Dwight Gordon was rather familiar with those himself. The blond boy sucking a breath before holding out a metal lock box which he began to open, never once looking away from the powerful man he was in the presence of.

The door to the box was thrown open and what Dwight saw almost made him gag.

Gag of amazement.

It wasn't the fact that the sight was gruesome.

It was who the head belonged to that made it so amazing.

"You are one sick puppy, kid."

-

Matt shuffled through the halls of Wammy's looking down at the screen of his hand-held gaming system. The teenager had to admit that graphics were progressively getting better and better as the years went by. To some they were fast, but Matt barely noticed. The only signs of the years going by were his gaming systems and the changing state of his physical body.
He was leaving Wammy's soon. Next week, to be exact. Already he had landed a job in London that was decent enough with the cash flow and was so easy it was almost painful. Oh how Matt hated it. The boy already had enough money to rent out an apartment so money was not a reason for staying as long as he did.

He was waiting.

"Matt," he heard a voice say. Matt's head snapped over to see Roger approaching him. Roger looked slightly disgruntled but not as bad as usual. "There's a phone call for you in my office."

Some sort of light Roger had never seen danced in Matt's eyes as he walked towards the office a bit faster than he usually walked.

"Who is it?" he asked.

Roger shrugged. "They didn't say." Matt simply nodded before ducking into the office and picking up the black receiver.

"Butterfly?" he asked, his voice a bit unsure and soft.

"No you idiot," came the deep response. "Listen, you need to get to America as soon as you can."

Matt nodded.

"Alright."

-

A/N: A shorter chapter ^^" But still, I wanted to get this out before adding more onto it. Thank you for all the amazing feedback guys 3 I appreciate it.