Irreversible

A/N 1: I am the original author if this fan fiction (see my profile for more info). It's also one of the best fucking stories I ever published, in my opinion. I don't know what I was going through when I wrote this but damn is my head a weird place O_O Also, I've edited it to be somewhat more explicit than the original version was. It's also like ten times more fucked up this way. You're welcome.

A/N: I admit that there are parts where I'm not sure if it's me or Matt talking. Why the hell would I do that? *laughs* Because real people find the drama in my life as some entertaining shit, that's why. If I wasn't so fucked up inside, I wouldn't be able to write the stories you like. So uh. Yeah. Enjoy this for what it is.

Extremely appropriate music suggestion: Irreversible by Ga-In. there are versions of the full 10-minute music video w/English subtitles. It's so tragic and beautiful, it makes me wanna cry. Absolutely fits this kind of Matt. T_T

Lie. Don't lie. Never lie. Live the lie. Love. Be loved, and die. It's so simple, isn't it? The things that consume our very entities?

There is something to be said about how far you're willing to go for a single desire…building yourself up, extolling those around you…and then there's the other path of crushing any semblance of yourself and using those people you love most until you gain what you think is power. I finally understand the perpetual sadness people see in my eyes, the sadness that is both pitiable and captivating…the sadness that will always rule over my life and keep my heart firmly guarded.

Once, I clung on to a man who saw everything in my eyes and accepted me for exactly what I was. He pulled me close into his arms and took me into his home, and he never asked me for anything in return, except to just be me. Wammy was just that kind of man. And he stretched himself across all of us, though admittedly, L was his favorite. Nothing could change that, but when you were with Mr. Wammy, you felt like you mattered most of all to him. Unlike most of the other kids I wasn't an orphan when I was whisked away to Winchester and into the strange environment of detectives-in-training. Unlike most of the other kids, I wasn't training to be the next L. I was just there, because I needed that place, and I felt like I was needed while I was there.

…My parents died after I decided I wanted to stay there. After I met him and decided I could do something with my life.

And then Wammy and L had to go and die, leaving me. Leaving all of us. In the course of a single afternoon, Near and Mello were forced to reject any semblance of childhood we'd ever believed in.

And in Mello's absence, I realized that I'd come to…regard him more than even the others.

I became like Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors and my Audrey was already inside the Audrey II. I wanted to be eaten too. I wanted so badly to be eaten too. Morphine is such a demanding lover, and I embraced it fully. Any kind of injection or pill, really. To take responsibility for my sins, I wanted to throw myself into that same pain that I inflicted on others with my very birth. It was Roger who held my hand and let me cry into his shoulder the morning after I nearly over-dosed. He didn't throw me out either, just smiled and said he'd be sad if the world lost another of the children in his care. England must breed kind old men, I think.

Leaving that place…forced me to realize that Mello is the one person in this world who means everything to me. Maybe it isn't even healthy, the extent to which my feelings exist. I'm not gonna pretend to say that I've ever had a healthy way of becoming attached to people, because I've been told so many times that I am far from normal. But it's always the case that the people who I love the most, either die or cannot reciprocate my feelings in the way I want them to. Platonic, unconditional, warm, romantic…the different people I crave love from rarely satisfy my needs. While at Wammy's, for a brief space of time, one person gave that to me exactly how I wanted it. It wasn't for as long as I'd like it to have been, but it is the only the time in my entire life that I have been loved by someone in the way I wanted them to love me. That was when I came to believe in ordinary miracles. I don't believe in dreams anymore. I'm beyond that now. But I do believe in ordinary miracles. They are painfully precious to me, the most precious to me, and I realize now that if I lose myself…if I let myself get eaten…I've already lost them…

They say that dying is easy. If you are not afraid of death, then it's so easy to die for someone because beyond the threshold of your life there is no more pain. Living is harder. So much harder.

Someday, I want to be able to say that I didn't just exist in this world, floating around without a purpose. I had a dream that at the end of my life, I'd say I lived for them…for L and Wammy, and Near and Mello. I don't believe in dreams anymore. But I can say that right now, I'm not just existing, I'm actually living, and it's because of him. I love him. I'm in love with Mello.

I probably always have been.

I can honestly say that I've sold my soul to Mello precisely eight times over. One for each and every of Mello's used up lives…

I've sold my soul for a punch to the jaw, a gun to his head, and a snarl in my ear. I've sold my soul for his burning screams as I pulled his body from smoldering debris, praying to a God I don't believe in. I sold my soul for a chance at revenge, for a single moment of acknowledgment…and for a kiss to seal the deal.

The way I figure, those were the perks.

"You're bleeding," she spoke, the distrust evident in her tone.

"Yeah, well…your bitchy pestering isn't going to make it stop." I replied.

Baby-sitter. I'd been reduced to the lowly title of baby-sitter while the king was out playing with Near.

"I dislike men like you," the blonde repeated for the second time as she sat perched on the frayed couch in our apartment. Our Apartment. As in the place I live with Mello.

"I don't like women." I countered, more than annoyed with the uninvited house guest, "I especially don't like women who think that their negotiation skills are proportionate to the cup size of their bra, or isn't that your game, Ms. Lidner? It isn't at all cute, you know."

A flash of blonde hair and large breasts and I was shoved hard enough against the coffee table for my eyes to bulge against the pressure of my goggles. I guess Near had employed her for more than her looks, but damn did the bitch have a vice grip. She was sitting on me, pounding my face across the glass as I thrashed aimlessly. Fucking, bitch! The things I will put up with for Mello! She yanked my hair and forced my head in her direction as she straddled me. At the proximity, her perfume was fucking nauseating.

"Say it again to my face, you little maggot."

I refused to return her gaze. She wasn't worth it, really. Not when she flaunted herself at Mello like some horny goddess, dripping wet in the shower, saying things to seduce him. I swear I really wanted to ring her neck.

With the air of one who hadn't just been physically dominated by the weaker sex, I brushed her hands off of my shoulders and coughed, "Why don't you behave until Mello returns?"

Halle was seething, but I couldn't give a fuck. My job was to watch her until Mello got back, not serve tea and be a chatty Kathy. She could shove my nonexistent hospitality up her ass for all I cared. Hell, she could shove anything up her ass, as long as it wasn't Mello's dick.

The clang of a gun hitting the glass of the coffee table caught our attention and we moved our gaze to the ex-consigliere where he stood, gloved hand on hip, gazing down at us mortals in his leather-clad glory.

"I leave you alone for fifteen minutes and you're already cheating on me." Yeah, perfect. Nice timing Mells. Why didn't you walk in on us before she tried to kill me.

His words weren't lost on me, however. Cheat. Cheat? The fuck, you bastard? It was then that I noticed…he wasn't looking at me. Fucking hell, his words were directed at her.

So he did sleep with her after all. Huh.

The color began to fade around me.

"I…Sorry, Mello. It wasn't like that. Your subordinate was just getting cheeky with me." I heard her say, but her voice seemed so distant as she released meand stood up. They exchanged a look and that was that. They were in their own private little Matt-less world and I was invisible where I lay.

I don't know what happened during their meeting because my brain was feeling blissfully blank. I was washed in a shroud of numbness. I was only aware that she pecked him on the cheek before he ushered her out of our apartment.

Mello sat down on the couch and eyed me, but said nothing.

"You slept with her." My voice sounded feeble, even to me.

He dipped his head low, running his fingers through his hair before looking me straight in the eyes, "Yes, I did. That was her price. I needed to gain her trust, Matt. I didn't enjoy a moment of it."

Liar.

My hands wrapped around the gun that he'd tossed on the coffee table; I lifted it and pointed right between his eyes. Mello said nothing. Mello just stared right back at me.

"Pointing that thing will do you no good unless you put it to use. Pull the trigger, Matty."

I inched closer to him, my hand shaking. When I was less than a foot away, I shoved the steel barrel against his temple.

"Pull the trigger, Matt."

I began to cry.

"Pull the goddamn trigger, Matt!" he was standing now, eye level with me.

My body wracked with sobs and my hand shook so violently that I dropped the gun completely. I just stood there crying, getting dizzier every second until I fell forward against him, trembling in a heap.

"You feel left out or something?" he mocked me.

Damn him, I hated him. I hated him so fucking much.

I felt his lips pressing against my forehead and struggled to push him off me, but it was no use. I've never been a match for Mello even at full strength and sense of mind.

"Go to hell, you bastard!" I choked out as he fumbled with my belt buckle.

"I will," he whispered against my ear, "but I'm dragging you down with me."

And with that he commenced to rape me. Because I really needed to be reminded that Mello owned me, that I'd sold my soul and my dignity to him. I really needed to be reminded that this world is cruel and loveless.

I screamed as pain erupted down my bare backside where he belted me. I clawed at the carpet when he kicked me, training me to be less vocal. I crawled slowly away but he dragged my legs towards himself and I knew resisting would only ignite his sadistic side further. My eyes were rolling in pain. He just laughed. The cold air whipped my ass as he yanked my pants and boxers off in one go. There was no preparation. No warning. The moment he entered, I saw white. Nothing else existed but pain, like a hot searing iron, threatening to rip me apart. It was dizzying. He was ripping me apart. There was blood on the floor. I wasn't a stranger to pain, but it was more than I could handle. It wasn't love. It wasn't love. I just wanted to die.

"F…fuck! Goddamn it Mello!" I choked the words above a mere whisper. It took all the effort I could give to gasp for air.

"You don't like it Matt? Were you expecting hugs and kisses?"

"Did you do this to her?" I was sobbing so much by that point, I didn't care how much more he hurt me.

I guess I like rubbing salt in my wounds.

He flipped me over so my butt grazed the carpet and I'm sure some of the fibers stuck to the blood that was smeared across my ass cheeks. For the first time since he'd walked into the apartment, he looked me in the eyes. He was terrifying. And oh so very beautiful.

He leaned over me and hooked one of my legs over each of his arms and I felt my back being arched way more than I was flexible for.

"Stop!" I screamed.

His response was to smack me across the jaw, "Did I do this to her? Are you fucking insane? I licked her pussy and made her dance to the rhythm of my cock. I came in her seven times. I made her think her vagina was the Taj Ma-fucking-hal, you idiot."

Mello is the worst kind of slut. I hate him. I hate him so much.

"Why would I do this to anyone but you?"

I couldn't cry out anymore. I could only listen to the sound of his flesh slapping mine every time he pounded himself into me. Was it blood lubricating him? Was his dick slick with precum? Did it excite him to know he was killing me inside and out?

When I stopped reacting completely he slipped my belt around my neck and began to strangle me. I slipped in and out of consciousness...only aware of blood dribbling out of the corners of my mouth.

Kill me or love me. These are the only paths to walk. Take me for granted, but please don't let it be a lie…

"Sorry." He whispered as he removed the belt from around my neck and I collapsed.

Another lash the back and my head was swimming somewhere between consciousness and limbo. The warmth of his semen was like a hug, embracing my insides and jolting my brain back to lucidity. It was the only warmth he ever gave.

I know he's not sorry…for anything.

But it's still a comforting lie.

"Ah, Matt. Thank you for coming."

"Why have you called me here, Near?"

For some reason I couldn't live with the idea of not knowing whether or not Mello had killed Near. So yeah, I did some stalking and voila, got led right to Mr. King-of-Legos himself. (No, Lidner did not, upon discovering me, totally drag me in there at gun point like Mello had done to her, not at all. Fuck you, I said I pwn at espionage!)

I had been given a phone for emergencies…and for if Near needed to contact me for any reason. I didn't like keeping secrets from Mello, but who the fuck was I kidding? I was as important to him as last week's garbage, so fuck it. Contact with Near meant resources that we couldn't get on our own.

"Mello doesn't take handouts and we both know it, so I thought you, being the more sensible one, might be able to use a little bit of information. I have given you some sensitive files to do with as you please."

Near and I talked for almost two hours. That was…rather uncomfortable for me. I'm not a great conversationalist, and Near is bad for my inferiority complex. I was about to leave when he threw a fastball at me.

"Why do you torture yourself by his side?"

I was dead silent for a moment, trying to read what he was phishing for.

At my silence, he continued, "You're just a pawn, Matt. You'll never be appreciated the way you want. He doesn't love you like that."

"Shut up. What do you know about love, you heartless bastard?"

"Generally, it's exclusive between partners."

Oh. That stung. Near didn't waste any time.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"At my bidding, my subordinate seduced him. Mello thinks he's got Lidner secretly planted in among my men, like she's his ally. He thinks he's using her, but I guessed his move before he could even play it and whether he realizes it or not, he's always been accounted for in my plans."

Just like that, he moved one of his toys on the little chessboard he'd rigged in the middle of the room. It had a blond head with a little scar across the face. Well fuck me.

"I just don't want to see my friends die causeless deaths." He looked at me with a strange expression that only reached his eyes.

It was strange to hear Near of all people, expressing what might have been a hint of concern. Distressing almost, but just as relieving, to me, who by now was just desperate for acknowledgement.

"Why do you think that those at the top stand alone, Matt? Why? Because they are the ones most scared of attachment to this world. Mello can't afford to second-guess himself, do you understand?"

I understood. Oh, I don't think there was a person in this world who understood more.

I only wished that Near had told me a lie. I was getting used to living in a world of misinterpretations.

It was almost relieving, to know that I was going to die. They say that the greatest human fear is that of the unknown, and people will always cling to the familiar, because it's intrinsically comforting. Throwing yourself in front of a firing squad is more sensible to people than walking through a door with an unknown variable on the other side. Knowing your eminent demise helps you prepare.

In theory.

The first few bullets hurt like a muthafuckin' bitch. They just kept coming in quick succession. And then I felt nothing. Maybe a shot or two had severed any nerves that fed the pain registry to my brain. Maybe you just stop feeling things the closer you get to death. But after those first shots…it was like rain, little dings of ice touching my body briefly and then…nothing. Nothing…

Why do you torture yourself by his side?

Strange that Near's words would resonate with me in my last moments of consciousness…

You'll never be appreciated the way you want.

Everything was fading. I could feel the cigarette slipping from my lips.

Mello's a backstabbing, power-hungry, revenge-filled bitch. He only cares about himself and about achieving his goal to be the best. I was pathetically caught up in that power, like it was beauty, hoping that I could be an extension of that raging fire inside him. I'm spineless, worthless, pitiable. We're a match made in some sadist's fantasy. Even now, I suppose he hates me. I kind of hate the fucker too. Except that I love him. So so much.

Perhaps, we're the only puzzle that Near could never solve. And really, why would anyone in their right mind put themselves through what Mello and I resigned ourselves to?

Maybe I lived my life as a fool. Maybe I deserved to die alone. Maybe I should never have followed Mello.

I regret nothing. All the choices I made are what give rise to who and what I am.

Mello...I lived for him. And that...that...

Is irreversible.

Review please. ^^"