Full Summary: Mello, two years after the incident with the Organization, is still working on living with the aftermath & his strained relationship with Matt. That was when the trouble started. A series of calls makes Mello understand that sometimes no matter how hard you try you just can't escape your past. Final in WSF series. MattMello.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note (or make money from it)

AN: Yeah...... *shifty eyes* As stated in the brief AN I posted on the end of JNRR, my last fic Choices (which was HUGE) ate my muse and spat out its tattered remains.... (as well as me being pressed for time now with my job) So I was unable to write the fic I wanted, so I left it up to reviewers which I would do next, as I was in the mood for two of my lesser ideas (rather than' World Tinted Red' which was what I was SUPPOSED to write)

And this was what was chosen. There will be some noticeable changes in the way things are written, as the way I write is a bit different. It is all from Mello's 3rd person. The fic is complete at this time.

Enjoy?

Suggested Listening: Watching You by The White Tie Affair; Warning Sign by Coldplay (quite a lovely song and I wrote the last part of the prologue to it)

Prologue: Comfort

It was a cool spring day; cool enough where the leather jacket and hood that was pulled nearly across the blonde's nose wasn't something that was unusual. And despite the skin tight leathers, that had been abysmally difficult to maneuver into, and the large black sunglasses that covered the upper half of his face, nothing was out of the ordinary with him.

People passed him on the streets and paid him no second glances, no extra stares, not one second of their time.

It almost bothered the blonde as much as it satisfied him. For if they ignored him, than he was in no danger. But in the same, if they ignored him... then he was nothing. Not anymore.

His hand clenched in anger at himself as he shook away those thoughts. They were stupid, and very much unwanted. They did him absolutely no good, and he never got anything out of it other than perhaps a fight when he got too frustrated with himself.

He sighed and glanced up at the quickly graying sky and hoped he would get all of the shopping he needed done before the rain. The entire weekend forecast had called for cloudy skies and rain.

Lots of rain.

He hated the rain. And not because of his capture nearly two years before. As far as he knew, it had been practically sunny the entire time. No, he hated the rain because the day he had pulled himself from the race to become L, it had been pouring out.

The sky had been dark and had fit his mood so completely that he now associated rain with that memory. It was not pleasant.

He frowned, the corners up his lips turning downwards.

He hated to think on those days. The ones so soon after he'd been rescued. He had been a complete mess, and more than just his body. He had never felt more useless in his life. Not only had he gotten caught, tortured, and ultimately disfigured, he'd had his face plastered across the entire world.

He had known he couldn't be L after that. And he knew he wouldn't have been able to stand it if L had told him he was no longer eligible, so he had withdrawn himself before L could. And he had never regretted his decision once. He was more than a little bitter concerning it, but he didn't regret it.

He hadn't spoken with L since. Though he supposed the detective would have to have either his or Matt's numbers in order for that to happen. Or know where they lived. Matt had made secret preparations for a place to stay, one still somewhat close to Wammys should its safety be needed, while Mello had still been in the hospital after he'd been found.

The moment they had been allowed to leave Matt had taken them on a short vacation to some island, Mello honestly couldn't remember the name of it, and after two months of nothing but sand and sea, had gotten them a flight back to Britain where they had traveled to a flat the furthest away from Wammys as they could while still being in the same country.

And up until recently, he'd yet to really leave the flat for anything. Matt had done all the shopping, or work related things, though Matt rarely even had to do that as he took on cases as he had been before the whole Organization fiasco.

Mello slowed his brusque pace as he neared the grocery store and slightly adjusted the carrying bag that dangled at his side. Another thing he had grown to tolerate.

He had a hard enough time doing the most menial of tasks these days, and it grated at him. But at least if he needed to get things for himself he didn't always have to ask Matt to do it for him.

He had two legs, and one good hand and he'd damn well would use them.

The shopkeeper of the tiny grocery store smiled and waved at him in greeting, having gotten used to his circumstances and strange dress habits weeks ago when he'd first started coming there. Though the first few times he'd gone with Matt, who was on good terms with the aging shopkeeper.

His frown lessened at the thought of the redhead. Two years... two years since Matt and L had gotten him rescued, and he knew those years had taken their toll on his boyfriend. But he was working on fixing things between them.

It was, as usual, himself that was the problem. But Matt seemed to have limitless amounts of patience, and even when it looked like he would snap, he kept his composure. Mello honestly had no idea how Matt did it.

He was grateful though. Because even if he would never tell Matt, the redhead was one of the only reasons he hadn't completely fallen to pieces.

He sighed again as he scanned the shelves for the ingredients he needed. He was going to attempt to make dinner that night. He only planned on making something simple, something that he knew he should be able to make on his own.

Though if he needed Matt's help it wouldn't be too much of a bust.

His sharp eyes caught sight of a canister and he snatched it up and placed it inside the bag. They needed coffee too. And he wasn't about to wait until Matt's gourmet shit came in the mail.

He finally entered the right aisle and gathered the correct tomato based products he needed to make the spaghetti sauce. As well as the pasta. He picked up a few more bars of chocolate for himself and a bag of assorted hard candies for Matt.

His hand froze as he placed the package inside the carrying bag. It felt like... someone was watching him. Not the kind of passing stare, or even lingering glance, but full on watching him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand and all his muscles tense.

He could be wrong... he was much more paranoid those days.

He pretended to look at a few more items, even going to different aisles, but the eyes never left him despite there being no one around. He eventually settled on a small tin of peaches, as it would look a tad suspicious if he wandered around and didn't pick anything else out.

Matt would eat the peaches at any rate, so it wasn't as though he'd wasted money.

He made his way up to the counter and lifted the carrying bag onto the counter and the old shopkeeper smiled at him again.

"How are things with you this week?" she asked while going through the list of items he had before punching in the individual numbers for each; the scanner had been down for some time and didn't appear to be getting fixed anytime soon.

"Same as always I suppose." he gave the woman a weak smile though his eyes darted around to find the source of his rising anxiety. There was a woman and her child to his far left and a teenager rifling through magazines on his right, and no one in the doorway.

His eyes narrowed in frustration as the feeling hadn't gone away, and it only seemed to intensify every second.

"Don't let things get you down. I'm sure things will get better before you know it. "

He felt himself nod at her before he had even really registered her words. He saw the total on the small screen and pulled out his wallet and after a moment of fiddling with it, was able to retrieve the right amount and hand it to her.

He had long ago gotten used to the rather humiliating display of using one hand so he wasn't as bothered by it and merely waited for his change.

"Here you go." she placed the change into his wallet, as she sometimes did for him, and he smiled with politeness he didn't feel as he left the store. The feeling hadn't gone away, at all, and Mello knew that if there really was something going on he would never forgive himself if he brought it straight back home with him.

He kept his expressions blank as he started on the long way home. He was tense and only slightly relaxed when the feeling of being watched left, and was replaced with the nothing he was usually faced with.

As he neared the flat, more than ready to have a nice sit down with a cup of coffee, he mulled over whether or not to mention it to Matt. He winced at the thought.

There was no way he would tell the redhead. Matt had more than enough to worry about without adding his own paranoia into the mix again. Ever since he'd gotten rescued he had been more paranoid than ever and it wasn't something he found that he could really help.

He clenched his fist and grit his teeth in annoyance. He wished he could just get over everything so that Matt would have nothing to stress over, but he knew that was a long time in coming, if ever.

With another sigh he pulled the key out from his pocket, though it was tied to a small cord that was attached to his belt in case he dropped it, and entered the mostly silent flat.

Walking into the kitchen he deposited the carrying bag onto the kitchen table and smiled at the obviously just finishing pot of coffee. It seemed Matt had saved him the trouble...

He went into the top cabinet and pulled out one of the room temperature bars of dark chocolate and used his teeth to begin the unwrapping process. Once he had procured a mug he poured himself coffee and dumped the bar into it and stirred it occasionally until the chocolate had melted. He took a sip and sighed in pleasure as the warm liquid slid down to his belly.

He was definitely glad that he'd thought to buy more coffee, as he saw the last can sitting in the rubbish bin. He felt his body warm a bit more and wished that he didn't get so cold as quick as he did.

He hated the weather there, but Matt had chosen the place and he would not say a word against it after everything Matt had done for him. He set the mug down, to allow the coffee to cool a bit more, as he devised himself of his jacket and glasses; setting each back in their correct place.

He than emptied the carrying bag and set out the cooking pot he would need for the sauce as well as a smaller one for the noodles. He debated on whether or not to make some soda bread but after checking the cabinet decided it was something Matt could help him with later when he was busy with the sauce.

He retrieved the coffee, kicked his boots off into the corner and sat down on the couch. As he leaned into the soft material of the still rather new piece of furniture, he had to wonder where Matt was.

The redhead wasn't making much noise, so he was either reading up on some case or taking a rest. Matt had, for the past few days, been working on something big, and it had him staying up at all hours of the night; which explained the coffee at nearly ten in the morning after the previous pot at seven.

Though he honestly had no idea what it was that could give Matt so much trouble. He wouldn't ask though.

He sat there in the silence, for a time, and simply enjoyed the coffee until it was finished. And even then he sat there for a few more minutes before hauling himself off the couch and back into the kitchen.

He supposed that it was about time to start the sauce if they wanted to eat anytime that day, though lunch would have to be something else. He picked up one of the small cans of tomato paste he'd bought and held it against his side with his left arm while he used the handheld can opener to remove the lid.

He had found, that once he'd accepted his disability, that he was able to do a lot more on his own rather than simply throwing a silent fit and brooding.

He dumped the contents into the pot and repeated the process with all of the cans. He took one of the cans and filled it with water and poured it into the pot as well, and adjusted the amount of water a tad more as he added a few more things as he turned the burner on.

He would need to check on it every once and a while to stir things in, or just to stir it so the sauce didn't burn on the bottom of the pot.

But for the moment he would go and finish the novel he'd been reading for the passed few days. He picked the thick book off the coffee table and stood there, silently debating whether to curl up on the plush chair or simply sit on the couch.

He sucked in a sharp breath as arm wrapped themselves around his middle and a soft kiss was planted on his cheek in apology. He felt guilty, more than a little, at the very loose hold Matt had on him.

Ever since he'd gotten back and healed he couldn't stand anyone touching him, anywhere, including Matt. But it wasn't the same as before, when he had been staying away from Matt out of guilt when he'd used his body for information. He felt that this time had more to do with anyone touching his scars than anything else, as there were a large number of them now.

He turned in the hold and wrapped his arms around the redhead, feeling even worse at the look of surprise that crossed Matt's face.

He knew that the entire situation hadn't been easy on his boyfriend, knew that he hadn't been easy to deal with, as he tended to push Matt away more often than not. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax in the embrace, despite not being wholly comfortable with it.

"Mello."

He looked up at the soft tone of Matt's voice and resisted the urge to move away as Matt's fingers brushed back stray pieces of his hair.

"You don't have to do this if it bothers you. You know I don't mind." Matt told him with a smile, though it was strained, tired.

And he knew for a fact that it bothered Matt not being able to touch him, even just to hug him, without having him shy away. So Mello took a shaky breath and shook his head.

"I want to.. I just..." he clenched his teeth towards the end and curled his fingers violently into Matt's side and had to look away as the tears formed. He hated being that weak, and hated it even more that Matt saw it, always, even when he was sure he'd hidden it well.

He wanted nothing more than for things to go back to normal, for them to be able to just live. But he knew that things may never be that simple again.

Matt pressed a kiss to his hair and his arms tightened ever so slightly around him. Mello didn't let his tears fall and neither did he pull away. And he had to think that it was some sort of awkward progress on his part.

Because if he didn't, he thought he might just scream.

-End Comfort-

AN: A reallllly long prologue, yay?

And..... I actually hate spaghetti (its the red sauce.. HATE IT!) and soda bread. Lol But other than my little idiosyncrasies, how was this for a prologue? You only get a small hint of plot... but things will pick up quicker than in the other fics of this series. Kinda...

And I know I said this last time in JNRR... but this will be the last one, as I have a certain ending mostly written out even before I really started it, and I'm actually happy with it. And I think it ends the series nicely. But enough of that.....

Review???