Note: The more I write, the more I realise that this fic will soon be over. It feels really weird, because I was able to share so much with you all through your comments, our private conversations here and on Facebook and Skype, and it's like a whole part of my life ending. But ah, it has to be completed at some point :)

I'm almost done, that's why I'm posting a new chapter today.
Enjoy!

Matt
I knew that something was going on. Mihael wouldn't tell me, and it was killing me. Not just because I was dying to know, but because he was holding back for my own sake. I couldn't comfort him if he kept me in ignorance, and no matter how much I pleaded him, he was stuck on repeat about being tired of waiting in his room for something to happen. But there was more and I knew it.

Days passed, and to be honest, sometimes I felt so numb that I stopped caring. Not like, not caring about Mihael, more like not caring for our current situation. I was close to accepting to be killed along with him if I had just one day next to him. But the hurt of his possible death was very effective at waking me up from my daze. And then I would cry for hours, only sleep freeing me from my sorrow for a few hours.

Mello
The bandages had been removed off my face a few days ago, and my tears rolling on the scarred half of my face burnt, that day. I cried because it was a small achievement and Mail wasn't even there for it. And then I thought of the fact that I was probably very ugly like this, and I didn't want his pity. I knew he would do his best to be nice even if he hated the terrible sight, he would even stay with me even if I was disgusting to look at.
Part of me knew that I was just being stupid, that he loved me no matter what, and that's exactly what he told me on the phone that day anyway. But torturing myself mentally made time pass faster. I might be going a bit crazy there.

I accepted to look at myself in a mirror after a few days, hoping it was not as bad as I imagined, but well... it was bad.
"'Morning cupcake!" the ponytail nurse greeted me, her big bright smile making me smile in return. She had the ability to make me feel a bit better, which was a welcome thing these last weeks, "Stop asking the mirror who's the prettiest sweetie, it will tell you the same as your boyfriend!"
I chuckled. Yeah, I was being stupid.
"So, how does it feel?" she asked, as she checked on my face scar.
"Weird." it was true, I still had to get used to the pulling, although the skin mostly felt numb. I had been warned that I would probably lose all sensitivity in that area, not that I complained, it was better than the horrible itching that I had before.
She handed me a small container: "Morning and evening, don't forget honey, okay?"
"Okay." I opened the pot, it smelled strongly of wax. Probably something to protect the skin.
"Someone will come in a few hours to remove the plasters of your upper body, you'll be a half free man!" she joked, laughing loudly.
"Yay..." I was quite happy, but it was still a small consolation prize, I wanted Mail to be there...

Indeed, two male nurses/whatever they were, I didn't know for sure, came and sawed the plasters little by little, removing all remaining bandages, until my hands, arms and torso were rid of any medical aid. Miss Double Ds came back once they were done with me to help me wash myself, now that there was nothing in the way, but I insisted on doing it by myself. It wasn't easy, I had to learn to use my fingers again because they were a bit rusty, and my arm still hurt, but I felt relieved that I could take care of myself a little more now.
I scared myself at the sight of my various scars but mostly because I was so skinny... I had lost all my muscles, and although I ate decently, I was sure that my nurse would force feed me from now on, from the look she had when she saw me without the plasters.

I suddenly thought of Mail's mother and the way she would garnish my plate over and over again and I would always end up full as a barrel, and wander after wander, the memory of the cherry knotting contest came back to my mind, and I started to cry again. Oh fuck, I was so over that...

It was hard not to cry on the phone with Mail, because I couldn't tell him anything about the dead cop, and I was also refraining from speaking of the same stuff over and over again. It was a known fact that we both were scared, angry, longing for each other, and things were becoming pretty tensed between Mail and me because of how much it was affecting us, and how much we dwelt on it day after day, conversation after conversation. But what else would we talk about, in the current situation? Nothing was happening, and we were both stuck in a place where we couldn't move from, talk about action...

Andreas came to see me the next day.
"You're leaving the hospital." he simply told me after greeting me.
I wasn't really surprised, it had been a possible option since the last time he had come to see me, and he never came unless he had something important to tell me. I hated that, because it made me feel like a tool to him, his visits to me were only a forced duty and even if I had thought he might be a nice guy, now I really hated him for leaving me on my own here. Mail couldn't be with me so they could at least visit me, him, the prosecutor, anyone!

Maybe it was a normal thing for me to leave the hospital because my stay here was over, I was in a much better shape and although my legs were still plastered, I could attend to some basic needs now at least, and Andreas looked pretty calm, so yeah, no need to elaborate a crazy scenario in my mind, they certainly just needed me to free the room.
"Where to?"
"To a safer place owned by the FBI."
"Where Mail is?" my heart jumped in my chest with hope.
"No."
And, crushed.
"Did something happen?" I had to ask anyway.

Andreas didn't reply, as the doctor entered in my room after a light knock on the door.
"So, ready to go young man?" he was playing it joyful but it sounded fake.
"I guess I have no say in the matter so..."
Andreas gave me a look, but it was more because of my sarcasm than because he didn't want Zimmerman to know anything. The doctor probably knew anyway.

I had to sign my exit sheet, he checked on my face and upper body briefly and gave Andreas a pile of what looked like a bunch of prescriptions along with a full bag of medications, and a folder that was probably my files.
"Good luck for what's next, kid." Zimmerman waved at me before leaving.
But what was next?

"Okay, we're going in ten minutes." Andreas said to me, handing me his cell phone already dialling, "Talk to Mail before we leave, and, I hate to say that, but make the best out of these ten minutes."

I didn't get it until I talked to Mail. I was a little taken aback by the simplicity of the process, and told myself I was just being transferred mostly because I could get out of here and there was no need to keep me in this bed anymore, which was a relief big enough to have me occult the rest. The fact that I would end up in a safe place of the FBI was a detail, I guess they were just being cautious, since my parents were still after me. And I had nowhere to go anyway, staying alone in my apartment wasn't an option since I needed someone to help me, and also, my studio was way too small for me to roll around in a wheelchair.

Matt
The prosecutor paid me a visit at some point and I was surprised when he casually mentioned that it's been a whole month that I was stuck here. Not that it had passed quickly because that had been a true nightmare, but I had lost count somehow, and even if I knew it had been quite some time... a whole month, damn.

"And you didn't even bring a cake to celebrate." I spat at him, angry even if I fully understood why they were doing this. That didn't mean that I agreed. I didn't even have my cigarettes anymore since they had taken that from me too, so I would be as angry as I fucking wanted to be.
"Mail. I came to talk to you. Now's not the time to make quips. It's a serious matter and I want you to listen to me carefully." The prosecutor was obviously nervous and I suddenly panicked.
"Is he alive?" was all that could pass my lips at that moment, my heart sinking in my feet with the first thought that came to my mind in front of his gloomy face.
"He is." he reassured me, his eyes softening slightly, making him a little more human to my eyes. Sometimes I felt like a mere burden they were trying to suppress without even trying to spare my feelings, forgetting that they were just doing their best. Still, I resented everything and everyone because I was not in a position to be fully sane right now. It was probably better than prison, but mind-wrecking nonetheless, particularly because with so much time in my hands, all the worst theories of what could happen had crossed my mind at some point.

He breathed heavily, and I stayed silent as he looked at his wristwatch, waiting for him to start, although I very much wanted to shake him to make him spit it out as quickly as possible. He looked at me again, and seeing that I was keeping it shut, he began.
"Two things: Mihael is leaving the hospital in exactly twenty minutes for another location, and he's calling you in ten minutes... How can I say that..."
"Where is he going? What's happening?!" I was on edge, "How can you say what?!"
"Mail... I'll be straightforward: as much security as he'll benefit from during the transfer, I want you to have a chance to tell him goodbye in case anything happens..."
"WHAT?!" I stood up abruptly, my hand covering my mouth, I couldn't speak anymore. My whole body was feeling cold and I started sweating at the same time. I fell back on the seat I was occupying the moment before, my legs shaking.

I thought I would pass out. If they weren't sure that Mihael would make it alive to the next location, how could I have faith in the process? Wasn't there a way to drive him in safety without risking his life? Like the pope or something? And why so suddenly? And why telling me only now? How long had it been planned? Too many questions and I only had ten minutes to ask them before I had Mihael on the phone and I was losing it.

"Mail, calm down." the prosecutor told me, seeing my distress, "Get a hold of yourself."
He handed me a pack of cigarettes. I didn't question it, and lit one.
"When was it decided that Mihael would leave the hospital? And why? What happened? I NEED TO KNOW!" My voice broke. I had to say goodbye to Mihael, just in case, and he thought I would just accept that few informations?
"I'm going to tell you, no need to shout." the prosecutor had a way of brushing off my anger as if everything was fine that made me even more willing to punch him.

"We've been working on that for a week now. We have informations that would be too long to tell you about right now, but in short, we know that part of the hospital staff is under the Keehls' supervision, but that they haven't been able to approach Mihael until now. But seeing as it came closer last week we cannot leave Mihael there any longer. We found a safe place for him to stay, the itinerary is secured, and he will be well protected. But since this will probably be the Keehls' last occasion of getting at him, and seeing how they went from being disorganised to scheming everything carefully, they are taking things to the highest level, and we don't have enough visibility to counterplan further than changing Mihael's location."

The load of informations didn't have time to sink in, and I was too panicked to know what to say anyway, when the phone rang. I snatched it from the small table.

"Mail? Mail, I'm leaving the hospital..." Mihael's voice was normal, when I was expecting him to be in the same state as me.
"I know... the prosecutor just told me... Mihael I... GET THE FUCK OUT!" I yelled at the man who was still there despite the fact that I needed some privacy right now. I had only ten minutes, and maybe they were the last I would have so there was no way I would have a witness to my last words to the love of my life.