Authors note: Look, I finally updated. It took some time but I finally did it. Anyway, I hope that you've been enjoying it so far. Maybe, if it's not too much trouble could you read and review my new story "Bent N broken," please. Anyway, here's the newest installment and I think things are about to get serious but before we get there...here is a softer side of Mello that we're not used to. Please read, review and enjoy.

Losing a losing fight

Mello had left Near soon after that admission. Neither one of them was in the mood to argue, because there was nothing to argue about. They were both in too deep. Deep in a situation that had started before Matt reached Wammy house. Deep to the point that there may be no benefaction in continuing anything further. The more that they continued, the deeper they would get and if it was fighting a losing fight they didn't know what to do. There would be no satisfaction at the end of the tunnel and now they both knew exactly what M knew. It was something Mello could live without ever knowing. If he could go back and stop the other from telling him, would he? Of course not, that wouldn't help Matt and that had been the whole point in his life right? To help Matt in any way shape or form that he could.

He closed his eyes leaning back against the headboard. He missed his apartment and living with Matt. He missed waking up in the morning when he was home and finding Matt sitting curled in the living room playing his playstation or in a huddled ball sleeping while his game waited for him to continue. He missed making coffee and tea, the smell of Matt smoking. He missed the easy laughter than only they could share. Back then he couldn't dare believe that Matt would have so many secrets, so many lies and so many worries.

How did Matt feel every day when he looked at Mello and pretended that everything was okay. How many times had M talked to him like Matt and he didn't notice the difference? Where was he on those long dark nights where Matt had to have been haunted by his past? He wasn't there, that was for sure. Now he understood why the red head was so interested in losing himself in the virtual world where nothing could actually hurt him. Everything had already hurt him. He released a small whine at the idea. He couldn't stop it because the thought was right. He kicked himself, exactly how much had he hurt Matt?

He pushed himself off the bed heading back into the living room. How could he start in a problem so big he couldn't even fathom it?

~*xXx*~

"What were your parents like?" Mello asked looking up at the top bunk where the red head was sitting playing his handheld. He had always wanted to ask the boy the question but had decided not to on the basis that Roger insisted that privacy on certain matters, matters being the past of each and every child that walked through the doors of Wammy house. Mello cared much less now that he was older when it came to what Roger had to say about anything. "I mean, you should remember them still right? You didn't get here until you were like six or seven."

Matt paused his game before staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I don't know." He replied after a while. "I assume that my mother was motherly and my father was father like, if I had one." He added as an afterthought. Mello frowned at the idea of Matt being such a smartass so early in the morning.

He leaned over the top bunk, "You don't remember them at all? I mean I even remember how my parents were killed." He frowned at the thought but didn't continue any further. If Matt wasn't going to divulge his personal cry fest then he certainly wasn't going to.

Matt shrugged, "They're dead, Mell. Me thinking about how they were offed isn't going to bring them back." His voice had dropped to a soft whisper and Mello knew he was pushing into dark territory. Matt didn't whisper. He was naturally quiet and an introvert but he wasn't soft spoken like this. "Just drop it okay?"

Mello didn't just drop things but for Matt this time he would make an exception. "Fine, it's almost dinner. Come on, we're going to be late."

Matt continued to stare into space, "I'll meet you there just save a seat for me." Matt barely gave notice when the blond agreed and slipped out of the room.

"What were my parents like?" Matt asked himself aloud. The images were cloudy, distorted and blurry. It was as if his own mind was working against him, but why? His parents were probably just average people that bad things happened to, right? Right? The questioned was posed and faded after a few minutes. There was no intimate reply from the excess of his mind. Instead he pulled his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes.

Matt never made it to dinner that night and Mello, well Mello barely noticed he had struck a nerve.

~*xXx*~

The hallway smelled of stale urine and something that Matt couldn't think of. Inwardly he felt hands on his shoulder as if something inside of him wanted to turn back and forget all about this. He kept his gaze ahead of him until he forced the feeling down in sheer annoyance and anger. He wouldn't turn and hide anymore. He couldn't.

He took a forced step and instantly his mind flashed to his childhood nightmares.

Blood….

Laughter….

Fear….

So much fear…

His breath hitched slightly but he refrained from touching the walls that were graffitied to all hell. Instead he forced himself forward taking in short shallow breaths. He had to do this but his inner child was screaming and what was worse he was mentally pining for Mello. He needed the blond by his side at this moment to help him through but he could only think of the comments Mello would have coming to a place like this without an explanation and he couldn't think of an adequate one where the blond wouldn't ask questioned. Mello asked questioned and expected relevant and clear answers. Anything otherwise wasn't worth his time and that was why he was here alone.

Stop.

The voice boomed in his head before he could will himself to take another step. Matt almost ran right then but he stood his ground. He forced another step and another and another until he was standing in the living room.

Here more flashes occurred. He remembered dumping legos on the floor and playing with them here. He remembered the smiling, proud individuals standing in the corner observing him as he built his cities and people. Their faces were shadowed but the unmistakable red hair was there on the woman. She was his mother. He could see his mother's outline standing there watching the younger version of himself.

"Mama." He whispered reaching a pleading hand out as everything faded away. Nothing was left of that daydream. Instead an overturned couch with its springs and cotton pulled out littered the floor, broken bottles and newspapers. His body wavered attempting to force the vision back into place several tears slipping from his eyes that he quickly wiped away.

Stop looking for someone that's never coming back. Go home Matt, you don't belong here.

~*xXx*~

Mello leaned forward staring at the computer screen. "Juliet Marrianette Jeevas and Emilliano Raul Jeevas. Juliet was twenty-five and Emilliano was twenty-six. They had no children together." He leaned back in his chair admiring the work of old man Wammy for once in his life. It had to be the old man's doing. They both died on the same day but hours apart. He read the police report.

After several calls to the residence and no response several friends of the Jeevas family decided to visit the home. Upon arriving the door was not answered and the friends decided to contact the police. After knocking the door down the bodies of both Emilliano and Juliet Jeevas were found within the house. Juliet was murdered by a gun found in the hand of her husband. Juliet was found in a spare bedroom while her husband was found in the couple's bedroom. An investigation is underway.

"Of course it is." Mello mumbled reading the address out loud. The only thing left to do was to go there. Tomorrow he and Near were going to Matt's childhood home. A chill ran through him. Something in him was saying that this wasn't a good idea but unfortunately it was the only idea that he had and so he was going to go with it.