A.N.

Blame Kat, she has writers block.

Disclaimer: We do not own Death Note

-Mello-

When the door clicked behind Matt I lost it. Screaming I flipped my coffee table, ripped the curtains off the wall. Several minutes later my apartment was trashed and I lay sobbing on the floor. I groped around for more to throw surprised when I felt cotton under my hand. Looking up just enough to see what I had grabbed I saw it was Matt's shirt. Sniffling I sat up pulling it on before shedding my pants and climbing into bed. It was comfort, like a hug. Sobbing I let exhaustion take me.

How long was it, hours, days, weeks, months, years? Time had ceased to mean anything. I lay in bed in my misery. I didn't eat, didn't shower. I had just enough dignity left to stumble to relieve myself. Would she really hate me? In that cold house, my sister, my Krista, was all I had. Only three years my senior she was still the best friend I had at school.. At home the mother figure I craved. I don't think she would…I think she might have known… It was her suggestion that started me growing out my hair. She was the one who held me as I cried in confusion of dreams I would never admit, was ashamed to admit. No I don't think she would. I felt soothed for all of a minute before I remembered.

My parents.

My father did hate me. There was no doubt. My mother might have accepted it eventually…but after Krista died….She was so timid to begin with. She never would have agreed as long as father was alive. I just hope my 'super lawyer' father wouldn't ruin Matt's life. Matt probably hated me now too.
More time passed. I didn't care.

"Mells? You in here?" I didn't answer, didn't move, didn't have the strength to. "Mello?" He walked in stopping short. "Mello, have you not moved? It's been three days!" I gave a one shoulder shrug. It's all I could manage. Matt scooped me up turning on the tub. He pulled his shirt off me placing me in the warm water. I could care less that I was being treated like a child. Complete and total apathy was all I felt. I was a bit surprised when he pulled me out, as he slipped his shirt he was wearing on me. I was comforted odd enough.. He placed me on the couch and shoved a bowl of soup in my face. "Eat." It wasn't a suggestion. I weakly lifted my hand for the spoon, yelping as it fell from my fingers and I was splashed. Propped up against Matt I cried silently as he fed me.

I was worthless.

Days had passed, and I was roughly back to my usual strength; physically that is. Emotionally it had taken a toll. Matt hadn't left me alone. I think he was frightened at what I would do.

….So was I.

It had been a total of week before I spoke my first words since my father came. "They hate me." Matt didn't say anything. There was nothing to say, it was the truth. "I don't care so much about the money…but the pictures…some of Krista's things, I would have liked to have."

"Pictures?"

I lay limply against him. "Krista was a picture fiend. She took hundreds, probably thousands and saved them all." My throat was beginning to hurt so I dropped to a whisper. "Most were of us. She was my best friend."

"So go get them."

He said it so matter-of-factly. I couldn't. You don't talk back to my father. Matt had taken my walls down, and my father had invaded. I was broken. I could feel the familiar feeling of a panic attack coming over me. "I-I can't! You don't know my father. H-he'll call the cops… H-he'll do worse than write me off.. He'll make my life miserable…He can and will make your life miserable…I can't do that to you!"

Matt grabbed my shoulders trying to stop me from hyperventilating "You want me to come too?"

"We can't! I-I may want h-her jewelry box and the pictures but…I…"

"Mello, I'll come."

What was Matt getting us into? And when the fuck did I agree? This wouldn't go well…
I sat trembling in his car his GPS leading us to the house where I grew up. He pulled into the drive several minutes later.

"You grew up here?" He gaped at the size of the home, the prison, I grew up in.

"Matt, I can't do this!" I was panicking. Trembling as Matt pulled me from the car I followed him up the walk. "Please don't…" It was too late, he rang the bell. I visibly shook groping for Matt's hand, receiving only minimal comfort from the tight grip. The door opened. "H-hello father." He was stony and cold.

"Leave." I stumbled as I stepped back automatically, Matt held me forward.

"Pictures." Was all he said lowly in my ear. Still trembling I closed my eyes and drew on the façade I had worked so hard on.

"I want the pictures." He stepped aside pulling out his cell.

"You have until the police arrive." Squeezing Matt's hand I dashed up the stairs going into the wing that my sister and I shared.

"That one is my room, I'll be across the hall in Krista's. Get whatever you think looks important, assuming they left anything in there." Pointing out the door to Matt I ran into my sister's room stopping short as memories flooded over me.