A/N: Woot! And I return to the writing scene! =D
So here's a little something - something for the MattxMello peoples. Inspired by a comic I read that explores the...er...darker side to Matt and Mello's relationship. *bites lip*

Mello lifted his head and let out a heavy breath that smelled of the bloody vomit he'd been laying in.

"Shit."

Glancing at the concrete and graffiti around him, he recognized the damp alley he stumbled into last night. Now the sun was high enough to pierce through the black leather on his back as he slowly rotted in the backstreet along with the other stinking garbage.

Ignoring the sickening pains in his stomach, he forced himself to roll over onto his back and face the sun. He ran a gloved hand through his soiled blond locks, flinching when his palm scraped against a freshly scabbed wound just above his eyebrow. Blood had dried on his already cracking lips and his jaw was sore from the violent puking marathon that had plagued his sleep.

Reaching down into his skin-tight pockets, Mello searched for his cell, until his leather fingertips brushed against the barrel of his handgun instead. Rolling onto his side, Mello peered down at the gun with frozen eyes as blue as the cloudless sky above him. His free hand delved into his other pocket and retrieved his cell. With his eyes still on the gun, he flipped open the phone and speed-dialed number 1. He picked up after two rings.

"What's up?"

Mello stopped breathing for a moment. His eyes closed, letting that voice resound throughout his broken body. His voice.

"Mello?"

"Hey."

"You ok?"

Mello smiled grimly. He could tell by the new note in Matt's voice that he already knew the answer.

"Come get me. The drug store on the corner." Opening his eyes again, his gaze found the gun.

"Sure. Be there in a sec."

Mello let the phone clatter onto the concrete and wiped the back of his hand across his lips. He weighed the gun in his hand a while longer, letting his long, pale fingers flirt with the black metal of the trigger. The sweat on his temples was beginning to burn into his eyes.

"Fuck."

And he threw the gun into a nearby gutter.

Matt bit down hard on his cigarette, trying to suck every last ounce of precious nicotine out of the stick. He could already tell that by the time all of this was over, he was going to need several smokes. And maybe a drink.

Mello sat silently in the passenger seat, head bowed and hands motionless in his lap. Matt could hardly believe the condition his friend was in. His face was a mess of dirt and dried blood, his flaxen hair was dark with grease, and his clothes smelled of sewage. Matt knew that as mafia leader, Mello always had the potential to entangle himself in some ugly scenarios. But this one had Matt's stomach in his throat and his fists locked in a death grip on the steering wheel.

He inhaled deeply, letting the warm, blue smoke fill his lungs, then took the cigarette out of his mouth.

"You gonna tell me what the hell happened to you?"

"Not if you're gonna get all pissy about it."

Some of the abrasive edge had returned in Mello's voice. Encouraged, Matt grinned and let his foot fall hard on the gas pedal as he raced through the congested highway.

"Too late. I had to pause a final boss battle to come rescue your ass."

"Didn't have to come get me."

"Right. Like I had much of a choice. You sounded half-dead over the phone."

Mello smirked. "Sounds like a personal problem."

"Yeah. You are."

Despite their bantering, Mello said nothing of his current condition and spent most of the rest of the ride home in silence. Matt glanced out the side of his goggles towards his friend. Even with his tinted vision, Mello looked so pale.

By the time they pulled into the parking lot surrounding their apartment building, Matt was anxious to leave the car. He'd burned through the last of his cigarettes and Mello's subdued behavior was giving him nervous chills. When Mello snapped at his offer to help him up the stairs, Matt watched as his friend slowly staggered inside, relying heavily on the stairway walls to keep him upright.

Once inside the dank little apartment, Matt shut the door behind him, frowning when he heard Mello stumble into the bathroom and collapse in front of the toilet.

The redhead ran a distressed, gloved hand through his hair. Shit, Mello.

Standing in the doorway of the tiny bathroom, Matt crossed his arms and stared down at his friend.

"Should I be calling an ambulance?"

Mello's head whipped around. "No. Don't." He faced the toilet bowl again. "Everything would show." His breathing hitched and his muscles went into spasm as he noisily dry-heaved into the toilet.

Drugs.

Matt's fingers itched for a cigarette. "Did you drink, too?"

Mello fell back against the nearest tile wall, his long legs splayed out across the bathroom floor. His angelic face was drenched in sweat. "Some."

The leather gloves on his hands squeaked as they tightened into fists. "And then you went and picked a fight and got your ass handed to you."

"Shut up."

Disgusted, Matt turned away and walked into the kitchen, his suspicions confirmed. He grabbed one of the chipped glasses from the cabinet and filled it with water, all the while wondering why he even bothered.

Back in the bathroom, Matt handed the glass towards Mello.

"Here. Before you pass out and I have to take you to the hospital anyway."

"I don't want it."

"Take it, Mello."

"I said I don't want it!"

Those violent blue eyes glared up at him from behind tousled, greasy bangs.

"Oh, but you want this?" Matt motioned at the pathetic slump his friend was in. "You want to be doped up and miserable and beaten? Is that it?"

"So what if I do?" Mello shouted back. "If it's what I want, it has nothing to do with you! Now get the fuck out of my face!"

Matt watched his friend rise to his knees, shocked at the feeling of hot tears stinging the back of his throat. Even after all these years of berating, he still wasn't calloused enough to withstand Mello's vicious lashings. Matt had let himself be disillusioned by that angelic face and that pitiful, seething burn scar.

Again.

"It has everything to do with me!" Matt yelled, taking a sudden step into the bathroom. "If it weren't for me, you'd still be rotting in some back alley! If it weren't for me, you would've died in that explosion you set off because you're such a stubborn dumbass! So stop brushing me aside like I don't fucking matter to you!"

The corner of Mello's mouth twitched and something dark flared deep in his sapphire eyes. He stood, meeting Matt's eyes dead on.

"Why?" he sneered. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you hoping to get something in return for your devotion? Were you hoping that I was going to return your feelings? Hmph. Too fucking bad."

"I'm just trying to—!"

"Then stop fucking trying!"

Mello bashed the glass from Matt's hands and hurled it as hard as he could against the tile walls, grinning darkly when it shattered into pieces across the bathroom. As the shards of glass glittered through the air, Matt lunged, grabbing Mello by the shoulders and shoving him into a wall so hard, his boots left black marks on the floor. Mello grunted and collapsed to the floor, still pinned beneath Matt. Keeping all of his weight pressed against Mello, Matt clutched a fistful of the blonde's hair and pulled. Hard.

"Bastard," Mello spat between clenched teeth.

"Why the hell do you do this to yourself?" Matt's warm breath filled Mello's ear. "Why the hell do you do this to us?"

Mello closed his eyes and groaned, achingly aware of the raw power Matt was using to nearly scalp him. Upon hearing the husky sound, Matt pulled back and stared at Mello in disbelief.

"What?" Matt asked. "This is what you want? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Mello said nothing. Summoning his adrenaline-fed strength, he swung his right fist at Matt and punched him hard enough to send him sliding halfway out of the bathroom. The redhead scrambled to his feet and threw the goggles that were hanging haphazardly around his face to the ground. He attacked Mello again and rammed him into the wall a second time, relishing the heavy thud that knocked the wind out of Mello.

"So now what?" Mello glared at his captor, cursing his own weakness.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Matt growled. "You still think I'm nothing!"

"I think you're a dumbass that cares too much!"

"How can I not?" Matt roared. "How can I follow you thousands of miles, save you from your own death, watch you drug yourself to the point of oblivion and not care? Dammit, Mello! And you're too fucked up to even notice! You're too consumed by your own damned inferiority complex!"

"Don't you dare fuck with me, you fucking hypocrite!" The blonde struggled in Matt's grasp. "Especially you! The kid that's so weak he can't sustain his own existence without a gameboy or fucking cigarette! Who's so pathetic and insecure he has to follow someone else's life instead of leading his own!"

Matt tightened his grip on Mello, digging his nails through the leather vest until the blonde squirmed and grunted in pain.

"Bastard!" Mello hissed. "Get the fuck off m—"

Matt grabbed Mello's chin, lifted up, and bit him hard on the lips. Mello writhed and groaned until Matt's oppressive body weight stilled him into submission. With his free hand, Matt ripped off the black vest, and then started to undo the crossties on Mello's leather pants.

"Don't—" Mello tried to stop Matt's hands, but his stronger and taller adversary crossed Mello's forearms and slammed them above his head. He redoubled his efforts, distracted by Matt's plunging southbound hands. "I said don't—!"

Matt dove back in for the scarred skin along Mello's neck.

"I don't care."

A/N: Yes, yes part 2 will be on the way...

Also, I think this fic has taken them way out of character: I can't see Matt ever snapping like this, nor can I really see Mello being so self-destructive to this extreme. I much prefer my other 'softer' and 'romantic' fics compared to this one, but I couldn't resist playing with the possibilities. Curious to see which you guys prefer! =)