Lurvles Le Fics

[kain_du_ciel]

So I went Deathnote crazy the other day, and ended up writing all these random fanfics. But because I'm feeling all spazzy again, unsure if I wanna delete this or just redecorate or something, I've decided to just post two more fanfics...

They're both Death note, and they're both Mello-centric - if you notice the picture, which was so ninjaly saved and reused, it is Mello. One fic is Mell and Near, and one is Mello and Matt, which has been posted on Fanfiction.net, for anyone who cares about me and my random ficciness.

Well... here.

A Friend in Need

He knew he would risk it. He knew this was a rash decision, but he had only two ways, and one had an escape route. If his name graced that paper, it would all be over. If fire and destruction engulfed the building, he could possibly escape.

The bomb was behind him, the trigger in his hand. He turned to his left, and with a signature smirk, his finger pressed down. A loud boom rattled the building, smoke clouding the room as the concrete walls on two sides collapsed. There were screams, people shouting and others crying in pain, but for the most part, he kept silent. He couldn't scream, it was too dangerous to scream, and he let it get caught in his throat, choking him as he stood silently, body shaking.

Hot... it felt as if he hadn't been near water in days. His body shook in the feeling, the mask gone, shirt singed, glove burnt, the scent of burning flesh assaulting his nostrils as he watched as the figures in front of him lay still. Probably dead. He couldn't wait around to see, and so he ran, straight to the opening in the building, and leapt down from the second story. The landing was rough, but he didn't care. He needed to leave.

One of the cars was waiting, key in the ignition, and he could remember climbing in, and then everything blurred on the highway.

It was hot... painfully so... he was gasping in the car, hunched over the steering wheel, one eye straining to watch the road while another could barely open without sending a stinging feeling through his face. He wasn't sure how he managed to drive himself away from the scene, but finally, far enough away, he stopped the car.

Time flew by like hours when he realized where he had stopped, and who stood in front of him, with a look of disdain and confusion. Tall, at around five foot ten inches, with goggles perched over his eyes, neat brown locks falling over his face in a previously-combed manner. It took a few seconds of staring before one recognized the other.

"Mello?"

"Matt?"

"What happened to your face?"

"What happened to your wardrobe?"

A gasp, a wheeze, and Mello was soon slumped over the floor, right hand curved across his body, holding onto his face tightly. He gasped, struggling to fill his lungs with air. That was when Matt finally noticed his friend's depreciated state; singed, golden locks fell helplessly around his face, and his skin glowed an unhealthy pink shade, as if it had been ripped off. Matt couldn't even be sure it could be considered skin anymore.

"I went to Hot Topic," Matt replied calmly, kneeling next to his friend. A gentle, tanned hand reached out and brushed hair from the wounded face, his eyes examining the wound behind the shaded tint of his goggles. "You... set yourself on fire, didn't you?"

"Unintentionally," Mello wheezed. Matt sighed. Leave it to Mello to get himself in trouble.

Four years of not seeing the guy, and already, he was back to watching over him. This eerily reminded Matt of their childhood at Wammy's House, their orphanage, where Mello ran amuck and Matt followed out of pure curiosity. Mello knew how to entertain, knew how to have fun, and yet, sometimes, things didn't come out right. This was one of his attempts at mischief, a failed attempt. He was working on the Kira case, and he wasn't doing too well. When problems aroused, Mello would land in front of Matt, needing assistance of some sort, whether as a distraction for a snack raid or to help him get out of trouble, as an alibi and an accomplice; here he was, once again, needing assistance.

His eye, the one functioning as properly as possible, sent a small glare in his direction. Matt helped lift his friend from the ground, his eyes examining the damages. Raw skin or flesh, on his left arm, shoulder, back of his neck, the left side of his back. Matt was careful not to touch; he knew Mello wouldn't hesistate to bitch at him for inflicting more pain.

But the question was how to get him away from there. He could have used the car, but high chance was, knowing Mello, it wasn't a safe bet.

The brunette questioned it. "Where'd you get the wheels?"

"Stolen." Mello managed a smirk, but soon gasped again.

Matt propmtly gave Mello his jacket and helmet and took him home on his motorcycle.

((...x...))

Mello had slept for hours. Long enough for Matt to threaten a nice little intern at the free clinic into giving him burn ointment, as well as rob an old man and scare some stupid teenagers from loitering near his apartment. It was all moving rather smoothly, as he quietly crept back into his apartment, his shirtless friend crashed on his couch, and began to unload the things he had brought home. He had stopped by a convenience store for other necessities he knew would be needed with the second person in the house. After unloading them from the bag, he soon took the bottle of stuff from the clinic and stared at it.

Oily, white-tinted liquid, and he'd have to apply it to his friend's wounds? Mild stinging possible... damn, he forgot to buy painkillers. Oh well, Mello could rough it out. Dropping to sit on a chair next to the bed, he opened the bottle. Gross, it smelled odd.

But he knew what he had to do.

He just hadn't expected for Mello's eyes to bolt open as the blonde screamed and sat up.

"Just what the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

Matt just stared. The scar was still bright pink, looking tender to the touch, a bootlegged leathery feeling to it under the slick feeling of the moisturizer. "I got it from the free clinic. Hold still."

"Hell no."

Mello shifted back, but Matt knew that his blonde friend couldn't get far. Sure, Mello knew how to fight and would, but high chance was he was still exhausted, still in pain from the night's activities. As Mello moved back, Matt pressed forward, and before he knew it, he was straddling his friend, pinning him down as his hand gently smoothed the ointment on his injured skin.

Mello squirmed and cried out in pain now and then, once it became too much to bear, yet he didn't throw a punch, even though Matt left one arm free for moving.

Ten minutes later, Matt was sitting next to Mello.

"Feeling better?"

"Run out, get me some chocolate," Mello rasped.

The brunette wasn't sure if it was such a good idea. His friend had just been burned so deeply, not only on his face and shoulder and back but also on his throat from gasping at the fire. The gas mask kept the flames around his face, and he found himself struggling with air the moment the flames collected. He could barely drink water, yet he wanted to try his hand at chocolate?

Matt sighed. "Mello..."

"Damn it, Matt, just get the goddamn chocolate."

Like a faithful puppy, Matt left the room and returned with a bar of chocolate. Oddly, Mello didn't rip into the packaging and devour it like he had. Instead, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed.

"You freak."

"Shut up." Sniff.

Matt watched his friend smell the treat in his hands, ingesting his chocolate through his olfactory senses until he could eat them properly again. That was his Mello, and Matt would've smiled if he had smiles left in him. It didn't seem as if much had changed since they were back at Wammy's. Matt was there, waiting to do whatever Mello instructed, and Mello sat on his bed, seeming content with his snack at hand.

Both knew that simple moments like this weren't going to last, yet they didn't seem to care. The nostalgic feeling of being together as they had four years ago was good enough, when the only thing that seemed different was the scent of ointment over the chocolate and the burns.

Mello smiled over at Matt, a signature smirk on his lips, as his teeth pressed against the chocolate bar.

"What?"

"Up to a little mischief, Matt?"

"Again?"

"But this time, we can't get grounded. It's freedom, Matt, freedom."

Matt was ready for it. And even with fresh wounds, so was Mello. Just like nothing had changed.

(...owari...)

Cruelty

Mello sat on the edge of edge of Near's bed, watching the smaller boy as he slept quietly. Near's small lips were parted and dry, air passing between them as he breathed through his mouth, due to a stuffy or running nose which restricted air passage. His cheeks were a soft red shade, the flush of a small fever evident. The sleeves of his off-white pajamas covered his hands up to his pale fingertips as he draped an arm over his light blue comforter. Now and then, he shifted, turning from one side to the other, folding one arm underneath his head, groaning and recoiling under the blankets or just crawling to a corner of them.

This was Mello's fault. He sat on the bed, stricken with guilt at the sight of his white-haired acquaintance. He wasn't sure he could call himself a friend, not after what he had done. Mello knew he had been cruel and rough, and now he had forced the younger boy into such a vulnerable, frail position. He knew Near hated being sick, for the smaller of the two disliked illnesses and medication and doctors and avoided illness to the best of his ability. And Mello placed him in a position which threw all of those in his way.

He was a cruel boy. Most of this made him want to cry, as he watched Near sleep, light strands damp with perspiration sticking to his forehead, pale skin gleaming in the gentle light of the cracked window. Near didn't deserve that at all, yet Mello had done it out of anger.

Near har beaten him in a test, again, by only a point. Not only had he gotten stickers on the top of his paper, but he was also the first one half the other kids turned to with questions on the assignment. His grade point average was less than point-two percent higher than Mello's, and Mello disliked it. That didn't give him the right to cause Near so much trouble.

The door clicked open. Near murmured incoherently and turned onto his side, his hand on the pillow by his face. Once or twice, he'd rub at his nose gently, lips pursed together as his eyes seemed to squint more, then he'd drop his hand, his mouth would open, and he'd breathe in calmly. Mello continued to watch.

"Mello."

Lawliet stood in the doorway, watching him, dark eyes focused on him, intense against the light from the hallway behind him. Mello immediately looked down, golden locks falling into his face, shielding his eyes against Lawliet's piercing stare. Lawliet knew it was all his fault too.

"Come on, Mello," Lawliet whispered to him. "You won't advance if you're not using your mind effectively."

Mello rose from the corner of the matress, frowning once at Near before walking into the bright hallway. Once Lawliet closed the door, he turned to him quickly. "But isn't it unfair if I'm studying while he's ill?" he asked.

Lawliet shook his head, dark locks falling into his face, hiding his eyes once before letting them return to view. "He's not going to improve if you refuse to study, nor is he going to if you do. Either way, you need to improve by studying, and he will improve by sleeping, not by having you stare at him."

Mello sniffed, nodding, before shoving a hand in his right pocket. Lawliet did the same, and they two walked calmly to the library.

:x:x:

Only an hour of reading had the rain returned. The rain was cursed, it made Mello antsy. Yesterday, he had been playing outdoors, a game of soccer with five other children, when it began raining. It was irritating, and he spent twenty minutes standing by the window, scowling as he focused on the pattern of rainfall, when Near joined him. At first, the smaller one just sat on the floor next to him, a Transformer in his hand, his eyes turned toward the window, but soon he looked at Mello and frowned.

"There's nothing out there," he had said.

"I know that. Stupid," Mello retorted.

"You're not going to beat me in that history quiz if you don't study. It's not your strongest subject," Near told him.

That irritated Mello. Near knew a lot, with a quick memory and no outside influences clouding his thoughts, when Mello had to study because he'd distract himself now and then with random ponderings. It frustrated him as he watched this boy sit on the floor so calmly, holding onto his toy dearly, advising him to study, without a need to. It really irritated Mello, and he decided to do something about it.

"And what are you gonna do, huh?" he asked. "Sit there and tell me what to do? And you think I'm just going to sit here and take it? From you?"

Mello grabbed Near's wrist, his grip tight and secure as he tugged the boy to his feet. Near stumbled, his transformer falling from his grasp, but Mello gave him no opportunity to retrieve it as he continued to lead the boy down the hallway, toward the front door.

"Mello, please stop!" Near asked calmly, his voice barely wavering. But Mello heard a tone he had rarely heard from Near: panic. Near feared what Mello would do, what he could do, and wanted him to let go quickly, so he could return to his puzzles, to his legos, to his transformers and his learning wonderland, not to the nightmare Mello pulled him to.

The boy with the sunshine hair continued to drag his snowy-haired comrade out of the school, into the rain. Both boys felt the water fall onto their shoulders, hair clinging to their faces which reddened from the cold weather. Mello continued to walk, almost dragging Near behind him, from the front of the school to the back.

Near wasn't a runner. And the moment he forced the boy from the entrance, he left him, shoving him down onto the muddy ground before taking off, pretending not to hear Near calling his name, running through the slick grass back to the entrance. He was cold, but he hurried himself into a bath less than five minutes after he came in. Near wasn't back inside when he returned, and he retreated into the living room with his geography book, reading quietly, as the door swung open, Roger holding an umbrella over a wet Near.

Then today, Near was bedridden, and Mello felt guilty. He was guilty, he knew he had done wrong, and it upset him. He was cruel, so cruel, and now Near suffered. Because he was angry, because he couldn't control his emotions.

Only a few minutes of reading had passed before Mello found himself shutting his book. Lawliet turned from his chair and watched Mello as he rose from his chair. "I... I can't," the blonde said softly, before hurrying from the room, not caring what Lawliet would tell him later. He was being emotional and he didn't care.

He ran into the living room. Near's transformer toy had been moved, probably picked up by one of the other children, but it had to have been there somewhere. He looked behind the curtains, in the couch cushions, even dropped to his knees to search below the chairs and tables. He bit his bottom lip and looked around, eyes wide and piercing as he scanned the area.

The toy sat on top of a shelf next to one of Near's books. Always, there was someone's lost item resting on the shelf, used as a small lost and found for missing items. He scrambled over, tripping once and falling to a knee, but his arm stretched out, grabbing the toy. Rushing was making him reckless. Taking a calm breath, he ran from the room, hurrying upstairs, down the hallway, to Near's room.

Near was sleeping still, a small frown on his face. He lay under a thinner blanket, his comforter folded neatly at the bottom, part sliding off from where he had kicked at it. An arm stretched out, fingers moving now and then.

Tears formed, and Mello blinked, but they wouldn't leave, moving only to gracefully slide down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Near," Mello said softly, "so sorry." He placed the toy down in Near's arms, and watched the boy hug it in satisfaction. Mello dropped to his knees as he saw the boy shift and hug the transformer, biting onto his bottom lip tighter as he tried not to sob. Tears freely flowed down his cheek, incapable of being stopped, and he gave up trying.

Near groaned.

Mello halted, pausing in his crying, in thinking, in even breathing, and turned a head upward, as Near blinked open his tired eyes. He looked at a wall emptily for a few seconds, then glanced down, as if confused at the action. "Mel..lo...?" he asked.

Mello panicked at that moment. He shook his head, then hurried and ran from the room, hurrying down the stairs, as far from Near as he could possibly get. It seemed to be the best choice for him to head outside, and he ran into the heavy rain, dropping to his knees as he openly cried. His hands wrapped around his stomach as he huddled into a small ball, crying through the darkness of the evening.

:x:x:

He was found a few hours later, shivering and silent, soaked to the bone and barely responsive. They were barely able to keep him awake as they tried to warm him, but soon left him to sleep peacefully through the night.

Near went to visit him in the morning. Still ill, yet not as badly as earlier, he entered Mello's room, clutching his transformer tightly in one hand, a small present for Mello in the other. He found the blonde boy sitting on his bed, propped up on a pile of pillows yet slouching on them. His face, what could be seen behind his hair, was flushed, and Near frowned. Mello was bundled under a comforter dark blue, wearing a large sweatshirt, feeling cold still from last night.

Lawliet had told him what happened when Near asked, and he felt the need to visit him. "You didn't need to do that," he said softly, twirling a small lock of hair.

Mello shook his head. "I did," he replied. "I'm sorry."

Near nodded. "I understand. You don't have to apologize."

An uncomfortable silence went by for a moment, before Near held up a mug in his right hand. "Here. Roger says you need more warm things, you weren't drinking much yesterday. It's hot chocolate."

Mello's head snapped quickly to the mug, but he restrained himself from attacking it and Near with love and only accepted it, too tired to do much more movement. From there, he took a sip, then sighed softly. "Thank you for the cocoa."

"Thank you for finding him." Near gestured to the boy in his hand.

Mello shook his head again. "No need to thank me."

Another uncomfortable moment of silence.

"I guess we're even?" Near asked, to be certain.

"I... I guess so." There was no reason not to, Mello realized, and merely agreed to Near's current truce. Nothing would change until the tests, until they began to challenge each other again, but right now, they were just sick, together. Evenly.

Near picked up a book from the floor and climbed onto the bed next to Mello. He opened the book and flipped to a page.

"Capital of Louisiana," he quizzed.

Mello took another sip of his hot chocolate, a small smile forming. They were a quirky bunch, alright. But it was just the way they liked it. Even if they didn't always get along.

"Baton Rouge," Mello answered.

(9...Owari...6)