The I.V in the hospital room beeped quietly in a sad rhythm. A faint light from the full moon peered through the curtains on the window and reflected off of the metal medical equipment. A faint breeze rolled through the room. It was a hot summer night, partly cloudy, and completely empty feeling. The world felt like it was at a still. The busy city only seemed to buzz quietly to the sound of the wind.

Matt's chest rose and fell slowly with his deep breaths. He'd been under for the past three days. His pale skin seemed impossibly colorless, his face calm and empty, and limbs lifeless. His head was bandaged heavily, and after twelve hours of uninterrupted surgery a faceless doctor had told him it was a miracle he'd survived.

Matt was a miracle in itself. His perfect cream skin looked almost too invaluable to touch. Long fingers that used to grip deadly blades, and a soft neck that made the room intake a breath. There were those eyes, piercing and hidden like a precious treasure behind orange goggles. He didn't wear them now, for there was no fear that anyone should see his weakness. They weren't sure when he'd wake up. They weren't sure if he'd wake up.

Mello sat head in hands, on the side of Matt's bed. He hadn't left him since he got out of surgery. His hair was messy, he was covered in blood, and frankly he looked like shit. Appropriate because he felt like shit. They were on the twelfth level on one of L's many buildings. His building had a built in, three level, top notch medical facility, one of the best in the country. He sat, body heavy, and nerves fried.

He didn't deserve him, and if Matt were to wake up, and he was to see those impossibly piercing green orbs staring back at him he'd melt. Melt into the nothingness he deserved. Because Matt deserved the world. He deserved everything that wasn't Mello. Mello was flawed, emotionally compromised, and had a temper. Matt….Matt was different. He was perfect. He was quiet and critical, surpassed Mello in practically everything, yet….yet it was always Mello who had control. Matt would fight for him at a drop of a pin. And he had deserted him? Left him alone after so long? Kept him sheltered from the beauty of the world and engulfed his soul into a life he should never have to experience. He would never…never forgive himself for what he did to him. He almost got him killed. The fact that Mello chose this life, was the reason Matt so feverishly craved it.

The fast nights, fast money, and gun chases were a daily occurrence. He had bought himself at least a dozen of the nicest foreign sports car's ever made. Most better than Mel's bikes. He thought back on the warm nights they used to race through the city. Shifting fast, dodging in and out of traffic, drifting corners with no effort. He remembered looking through a tinted motorcycle helmet at Matt, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, smile on his face as he shifted into fifth gear. He would give anything to go back to that. He would never get that back. Never get that trust from Matt he once had. And he'd never get to hold him close like the moment before all of this happened.

He had spent months, months without him. Matt had spent months alone. What had he been doing when Mello left? What kind of trouble could he have gotten into? What kind of people did he meet? When he saw that beautiful auburn haired boy turn that corner in their old apartment he almost died right there. Long eyelashes flittering closed as he took a drag of his cancer stick. It would be the last time he underestimated the gamer, and the first time he'd realized how much Matt cared for him. He cared for him enough not to immediately confront him. He had found him and waited even though he had him at his fingertips.

He'd spent so long protecting the auburn haired boy he didn't even realize what Matt was going through. He let his insecurities about everything control it. Matt just let Mello so willingly control it. The one time he was caught off guard, and Matt had been really hurt. Right in front of his eyes. He was worried, and nauseated, but Matt was alive. He would thank the god he didn't believe in profusely. He sighed and sat back studying the sleeping man's form. He had left, hoping it would keep him safe, and the minute he came back, his life was taken from his hands. Matt technically died six times, three times in the helicopter, once in the elevator on the way to the hospital, and twice in the operating room. Watari performed the paddles until he was able to release Matt to one of L's trusted medical professionals.

Mello smiled sadly. "I'm so sorry Matty…" he whispered. He had failed to protect him. The only thing he cared about. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Someone had to have known he was going to be there. They knew, and they waited. His stomach twisted painfully. How could he have let this happen?! Anger swelled in his gut and he stood up abruptly.

"Mello should get some rest." Big panda eyes met Mello's from the doorway stopping him in his track.

"I have some business to attend to." He replied quickly. For a minute nothing was said between him and L studied his face, they had a quiet understanding. L knew that Mello wasn't going to let this go, and that he wasn't going to ask for help either. It was something he felt he had caused, and he was going to fix it. Mello had earned a certain level of respect from L. When he was told he would not get title as L's successor and left, L thought he was childish and too emotionally involved. Which he was. But when Matt refused the title and told L that , "I appreciate the opportunity but I will have to deny this" , which L was already expecting, he said something else. He said, "You will find that with Mello, his biggest weakness is his strength. He is only one other than you I have seen who's refused to give up, even if there is no way for him to win." It was true, and over the years Mello had been a huge help with some of L's hardest cases. He risked his life and Matt's to help with the Kira case. The fact either of them came out alive is a miracle. And the monster Kira, does not even remember it. He's less of a monster now. Now, he's just Light. But more on that later.

L scratched his head and frowned. "We have a room where you'll be able to get cleaned up. I've taken the liberty to ask Watari to fetch you a set of clothes." He said.

Mello frowned and looked down at his clothing. He was soaked in blood, and it wasn't his blood either. The idea made him sick. He needed to get out of them as soon as possible. Fuck I need a shower.

"I can't promise I'll rest." He said walking with L out of the room, pausing just long enough to glance at Matt's angelic face.

He decided then, he would not come back. Not until whoever hurt Matt was dead. Not until they suffered. He would make them all fucking suffer.

They walked down the long empty corridor in silence. L had his hands in his pockets and was slouched slightly, signature L pose.

"Though you're used to people trying to kill you, Matt is not. What happened there was no accident." L started breaking the silence. He was blunt, straight to the point, what Mel expected him to be. In all honesty it was a relief. In his line of work it was rare to find someone that was straight to the point.

"At first I thought of the possibility of you being the initial target.." he continued. "..but under further investigation I've come to the conclusion that this is not the case."

Mello met L's eyes.

"but you already know this don't you?" he asked monotone. Mello didn't reply, he didn't have to. They had meant to kill Matt. Meant to kill him in order to try and hurt Mello. He didn't know exactly who it was, but when he did…

"I need you keep Matt safe. These people aren't going to quit until either they're dead, or I am.." Mello said as they entered the elevator.

"I will do whatever I can to keep Matt safe." L replied

The elevator doors opened and they were greeted by a tall brunette.

"What's going on?" They looked up to a warm smile from Light. Mello's eyebrows creased as he watched the detectives whole demeanor change.

"Hello Light." L said attempting a small smile. Light returned it with a huge one of his own.

Mello didn't exactly like Light, not that he dis-liked him, just that he didn't like the idea of him with L. He feigned a sort of innocence Mello knew he didn't posses. He was much smarter than he let off to be, but he couldn't help but notice how L's eyes lit up when he was around. There was no denying they worked great together either. His deductive skills were quite extraordinary, of course not the best, but pretty damn close.

Light nodded to Mello, a sign of condolences and kind of a "good luck." Mello nodded back. He didn't know exactly what drew the young boy to L, they were polar opposites. He couldn't have seen it in a million years if it had not been right in front of his eyes.

"Your room is two floors under Matt's." L said as he opened the door to the suite.

"If you need anything, please page Watari. He will get you whatever you need." L said as Mello entered the room.

Mello nodded tiredly and L left him to it. The room was more of an apartment. He had his own kitchen that was attached to the living space. Straight through the living space there were sliding wooden doors, leading to the bedroom. He opened the doors and raised his eyebrows. The room was huge, L sure didn't like to spare luxuries. He had a queen size memory foam bed, oak desk and table top, the glass wall behind the bed and to the left side of it was draped with heavy, expensive looking curtains. This room alone probably cost him a pretty penny.

He didn't like the fancy. It made him feel so out of place. He was used to that small dirty apartment, ugly patched green couch, and cigarette burns. His even smaller apartment now, a single glass table and window. His stomach involuntarily flipped. He had the money, yet he had let them, for years, live in a dirty small apartment. Mello didn't mind, he didn't need a big fancy room to make him happy. But he wished he could have given Matt a big fancy room. He didn't want him to live in the same filth Mello did. And that went with his line of work as well. That's the reason he had left in the first place. It was just so dangerous.

The reasons and supporting details that encompassed his departure from the city kept coming up in his mind. From the minute he took out his suitcase, to biting a piece of chocolate on the plane. Chocolate…right.

He reached a gloved hand into his vest pocket and pulled out half of a candy bar. He unwrapped the paper nibbling on the ends a bit. He licked lips and closed his eyes, tasting the chocolate and blood mixture in his mouth. He took a deep breath savoring the milky sweetness, did his best to ignore the rest, and turned toward the bathroom.

He tugged his shirt off first, and let it roll off of his shoulders. Long tangled, dirty blonde hair, fell on scarred shoulders. He tugged at his zipper walking through the room. He pushed open the glass shower door and turned it on as hot as it would go. steam immediately started pouring out of the shower and he walked around to the sink.

He looked in the mirror and grimaced. He looked like living fucking hell. With one hand on the counter, he let his leather pants fall to the ground. For a moment he examined all the scars on his toned body. From his neck to his hip bones, down to his feet, he was covered. Thick and thin white lines scattered themselves here and there, each a recounting of some story he could hardly recollect. Most of the worst ones, he noted, had been stitched up by no one other than his beautiful ex roomate. He took a deep breath, tears threatening to escape his eyes, and stepped into the shower.

He let out a sigh as the hot water ran over his hair and down his back. Steam from the shower filled the bathroom, fogging up the mirror. He let one of his arms rest against the side of the shower. Long wet blonde strands hung over his face and dripped slowly. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the running water. He'd never had a better shower in his life.

Just as quick as everything had happened he was out of the shower throwing on tight leather pants and a clean shirt. Gloves were next, followed by new boots. Watari really out did himself… he thought.

Once he was dressed and ready to go he pushed the button on the intercom, and seconds later he got a call to his room. He picked it up immediately.

"Your transportation is ready and waiting Sir." He hung up the phone.

Alright, it was time. He wouldn't see Matt before he left. Even if there was a possibility he'd never see him again. This was business. His business. And since everything had started happening he'd been making calls. Whoever did it knew he was coming for them, that he wouldn't stop until they were all dead.

He took the elevator down to the parking lot under the building. Just as described the motorcycle was lone and waiting once the doors opened. There was no time to spare. His black coat swayed as he flung his leg over the side and started the bike. He put on his helmet, allowing one last glance before he took out into the night. Leaving no trail behind.

Now it was time to kick some ass.