BY : Alice_Von_Wonderland
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 3102
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: S.O.S

Pairing: Matt X Mello

Rating: NC- 17

Warnings: Severe Violence, Rape, but most inportant Unrequited Love

Sumarry: When the unthinkable happens to Mello, it's up to Matt to save him. But how can Matt bring Mello out of his shell again when Mello's strongest fear in the world is being touched?

Chapter Number: #1

Author Note: Takes place while Mello and Matt are both in America, never been to Japan, can't write about what goes on in Japan. This isn't a very dark fic, even though it's plotted out to be. There's more Matt trying to comfort an overly traumitized Mello. Meaning, lots of cute Matt X Mello fluff scenes. However, for the first few chapters there will be no sexual intercourse between Mello and Matt. Basically saying, it's a cutsie fic with an exteremely dark beginning.

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It'd been five weeks since Matt had heard from him last. He'd said he had to deal with one more suspect and he would be home. For Mello that could mean minutes, hours, or days, but never weeks. It was strange, but the Kira case was a strange case, so Matt didn't worry. After all, Mello had a way of just vanishing off the face of the earth from time to time. It was only natural for him to go missing. However, this very train of thought was what, at the moment, Mello was fearing the most..

It'd been five weeks since Mello was walking home, tired of the stress caused by the case, and tired of hearing all of the people cheering and supporting a mass murderer. Five weeks since a crazed man grabbed him from behind and drug him off to a deserted alley way and proceded to beath the shit out of him until he was unconcious and then drag him off. Five long weeks since he'd woken up, stripped down to null the only things on him were a pair of handcuffs, in an empty cement garage, alone in the cold dark. Thirty five days since he'd come face to face with his attacker who claimed he wanted a woman, but a pretty little sissy boy would do. 840 hours since he'd been beaten by the crazed man during an attempt to escape and then repeatadly raped by the bastard. An act that to that very day and minute had failed to cease...

It seemed as if every four or less hours the man would come and find some way to injure Mello in a new place not yet injured before and then molest him for at least an hour up to four hours at a time. The man kept Mello only hand cuffed at first, but after ten failed escape attempts and three broken ribs later Mello found himself in shackles as well.

During the five weeks of inprisonment and torture Mello had been fed once, and only because he'd agreed to 'behave' and perform sex acts on six of his captors friends, all of them males...And watered but once a day, and only three spoonfulls of water.

In one week Mello began to fear the man with everything he had in him, body, mind, and soul. And in less than three he began to fear all of the people that he saw. And in the entire five weeks, Mello began to fear everything. Any loud sound meant someone was coming to hurt him, any object he'd see was used as a punishment tool. Everything from pieces of paper and lightbulbs to nails, staples, and scissors. He feared anything that entered the garage, his prison...Anything and everything frightened him, and he hated it.

Despite everything that happened Mello still held onto his pride as if for dear life. He would try his best to supress whimpers and screams from the misery induced on him by his keeper, but only ever managed to save his tears for after he was sure the man was gone and not coming back. He'd managed to keep everyone from seeing him cry and was not about to allow this jack ass to see him break down.

Mello had found a favorite spot on in the cold garage... The one palce where he hadn't been violated...The far left corner. When all acts were done and everyone had left, he'd curl into the feedle possition trying to get some warmth, hide his face in the corner, and press his body as close to the wall as he could trying to get as far away from the door as possible.

Thats where he lay now. Alone, in the dark, at least for the moment.

The dim light clicked on.

"Hey Doll, what are you doing way over there? Get over here!" Doll, his aquried pet name by his captor. The man knew how Mello was about that one spot, how he felt about that one spot. He had had many spots. And the man knew that everytime he took one of those spots away by raping him there, Mello would go into a panick, and the sex would be bad until the prisoner found a new spot. And with that being the last spot...well...there'd be no clue as to what would happen to the little blonde captive.

Mello rolled over to look at the man, the man he despised and feared. With a grunt of pain, three un attended broken ribs, several bruised bones, countless infected flesh wounds, and a sore and tired 'sex hole' , as his captor called it, were very difficult to get moving without a fresh jolt of pain with every attempt, Mello began crawling to a nuetral area of the garage floor, trying to squirm away from his spot, but not too far knowing that if it hurt to get away from it before sex, it was gonig to be even worse trying to get back.

Not an inch of the floor went without a splatter of Mello's blood. It had become a decoration of sort, like paint on the floor. Even some of the walls were decorated with the red liquid, and after one cruel, sick act, some of his blood managed to get splattered on the high ceiling.

"I said come here!" The man emphasized his words by flashing the metalic buckle on his belt. A silent warning that if Mello didn't obey, that large piece of Metal would be beat into him.

Mello did as instructed, grunting and whimpering as he dragged himself towards his keeper. A sick man with a twisted grin and numerous friends and sex toys...actually...to this man...everything was a sex toy. As close as he got to the man and the threat to back up the man's order, Mello did not inch past the center of the garage, he never did.

"That's a good boy." The man came the rest of the way towards Mello. Yet another thing Mello learned to fear. Anyone coming near him. If they came close enough to make physical contact he would be hurt and he knew it.

The man grabbed him painfully up by the bangs of his hair lifting him to his knees. That's when he first saw it. The man had a cell phone in his pocket. Mello wasn't stupid, he knew better than to oggle at it or ry to grab at it, he just looked away the instant he saw it and stared up at his captor with unwillingly fearful eyes.

"I noticed it a while back, that your sex hole was getting raw and less enjoyable for me...because of that...I had to tell a few friends that they couldn't come over to play with you today."

"Th-thank you," Mello said weakly, his voice, though tired and strained from yelling, held a great amount of bitterness as it recited it's trained response.

"But this also means that I can't enjoy you for myself the way I like to...so you're gonig to have to be extra good with your mouth today and not bite. If I'm unsatisfied you'll get beaten and you won't be watered for three days. And on top of that I'll make sure all of my friends come to play with you." The man violently tugged on Mello's hair causing an invoulintary whimper to seep past his lips. "Are you going to bite me?" Mello shook his head, defeated, and the grasp on his hair dissappeared. "Now don't move and I'll get you some water. Extra water today...you look sick." The man chuckled and left.

/no shit asshole I've looked sick for days. if you'd feed me I'd be more attractive!/ Mello's mind begged to scream these words, but he held his tongue, he could not fight this man. He hadn't the energy nor the will anymore.

When the man returned he had a full bottle of water, some generic brand of purified water, hevan in a bottle. Mello couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"Do you want this, Doll?" Mello nodded and stared at the man, pleading with his eyes. "Then who am I to deny you of what you desire most in this world?" The man un capped the bottle and held it to Mello's lips. He tipped the bottle slowly watching as if amazed at how Mello managed to get every drop into his mouth and down his throat, emptying the bottle in less than ten graceless gulps. "That's a good boy, don't waste any of it." Even after the bottle was empty the man watched amused as Mello desperatly tried to lap up every drop his tongue could reach.

When the man tried to pull the empty bottle from Mello's lip, he grabbed it with he's teeth and held onto it, trying to get all he could, still thirsty, trying to substitute water for food. The man's hand connected with Mello's cheek in one swift blow that left Mello on the floor, whimpering as his broken ribs stabbed agaisnt organs and flesh.

"No water! Three days!" The man yelled, Mello stared at him hurt. Was it really unexpected of him to be completely against letting the bottled hevan leave his lips? The man pulled Mello up by the hair again, back on his knees. The man undid his fly and Mello's eyes brushed past the cell phone again. As the pants sagged to the bottom of the crazy bastards ass, the cell phone was pushed slightly out of the pocket, even more exposed. Once again Mello refused to allow himself to focus on it. Instead, he focused ninety percent of his attention on the member that was being forced into his mouth. The other ten percent was pretending that the member belonged to Matt.

Mello was secretly supersticious. As long as he had been held captive he beleived that it was because he'd left his roasry at his and Matt's apartment. He believed that because of that little fact, God was no longer looking out for him. But while his captor was in ecstacy as he prepared to orgasm, it was as if God had just come back suddenly.

For some reason, as he began to cum, the man stuffed his hands into his pockets which somehow made the cell phone fall free. But what suprised Mello the most was that the man didn't even notice. Mello made a mental note that when the man was completely finished, he would make sure to fall onto that cell phone to block it from view as the man left.

His plan went well. The man forced him to swallow, pushed him over violently, spectacularly with his hair completely covering the little object from view, pulled up his pants and left. Not forgetting to turn off the light.

Mello trembled hard. Could it be possible that he had fooled this man? That he had taken the cell phone without the man noticing? Was it possible that he could finally be set free?

The man was somewhat kind to Mello. He noted how much Mello panicked if his arms were held behind his back, so he allowed them to be cuffed infront of him, allowing Mello enough movement to open the cellphone and dial the only number he knew was safe.

First instinct would be the police, but the police were searching for someone of his description at the time being. He couldn't trust them, but he could trust a certain red-head chain smoker who he happened to love...a lot.

The phone rang four times. /Please God, Matt. Answer the phone. Stop playing your game for five minutes and answer the phone. I don't think I'll have time to try to call you back. The man will know his phone is missing sooner or later and he'll come here first to get it. Please answer...please!/

"Yo." That familiar, nuetral voice. Matt... for once in his life, Matt had answered the phone after being called only once. God was with him.

"Matt...I-it's Mello. I-i need your help." Seven words spoken and Mello's voice was already tired.

"What is it Mello? Where the hell have you been? You sound awful, did you catch a cold?" It was so like Matt to take nothing seriously.

"Matt...please help me. I-I don't know where I am. Some guy...jumped me a really long time ago. You have to come get me out of here..."

"Mello? Hold on a second and I'll be able to figure out where you are."

"I don't have a second...Matt. He'll know I have his phone, Matt. He'll find me, and he'll hurt me again. He'll kill me this time for sure. Hurry..." Mello heard various noises in the background. Computers starting, boxes being opened and tossed around. Thirty long, terrifying seconds later and Matt replied.

"Alright, Mello. I know where you are. I've traced the phone to some guy's hosue. Tell me, where is he keeping you? What can you see?" Matt sounded woried and a smile almost covered Mello's lips. Matt loved him.

"I-I can't see anything. B-but I know that I'm in a garage." Mello whimpered, feeling his conciousness start to slip. He knew the by getting excited about reaching Matt had drained important energy.

"Mello, you aren't too far from here, I should be there in about fifteen minutes. Can you hold out that long, or should I risk speeding on the freeway?" Even though it sounded like a joke, Matt was being serious.

"Please hurry. A-and when you get here...the man...is always armed with...some...." a long pause "thing." Mello closed the phone and let out a sigh. Matt was coming for him. Matt was strong and powerful. Matt could beat the man, at leat now that he knew what to expect. He left the phone on the floor and crawled back to his spot in the corner agaisnt the wall where he lay no longer even tried to hold onto conciousness. It wasn't worth it. Matt was coming. He was safe. The man would see the phone right away if he came into the room, but there's always the chance of the slight thought that Mello was too affriad to use it and crawled away from it. It ws unlikely that if he'd called the police that he would go to sleep and wait for them to come. No, he'd want to be awake for that.

Mello awoke to the sound of the door being swung open and the light clicking on. it wasn't Matt. He knew that. It was his captor, and at that moment, Mello feared death.

"So that's where my phone went. You didn't call anyone did you, Doll?" Mello rolled over and stared at the man.

"Yes," he said. There was no point in denying the obvious. The man's face contorted with anger.

"Who the fuck did you call!?" The man picked up his phone and openeded it, searching for the last dialed number.

"He called me." A thick voice. The man turned around fast, clutching for the pocket knife he always had on him, but it was too late. Matt swung down a batt and crashed it into the man's skull leaving the man on the floor, looking dazed and clueless. At least for the moment. "Mello, are you alright?" One glance and his words changed, his temper flared. "God damn! Mello! What the hell did he do to you?!" Matt glared down at the man at his feet. With hate in his eyes he began thrashing the man again with the bat, fueled by the horrid images of Mello, bound and bleeding,and half dead on the floor, Matt bashed the man's skull in at atleast in two differnet places before he delieved his final blow, killing the man.

He dropped the bat. He wasn't the type of man to kill people. He didn't like to kill people, but nothing gave him more pleasure than killing that man. That sick man who hurt Mello. He stared at the floor, not wanting to look at Mello, his lover and best friend, laying there half dead.

"Matt...help me out...come on....move." Mello stared at him. Wanting desperatly for Matt to come for him, but fearing greatly each step Matt would take towards him, each movement Matt would make to touch him.

"Mello...Wh-what did you let him hurt you for!?" Mello smiled weakly, knowing that the question was Matt's way of trying to making sure it was really Mello he was looking at, not an illusion or a mirrage. "God..." Matt looked around at the garage. All of the blood and the obviuos spoltches of something else. "Mello...i-is a-all of this b-blood..."

"It's mine," Mello said, numbly as if he had spoken no more than an answer to a simple math problem.

"Oh god Mello!" Matt walked over to Mello as quickly as he could, wanting to find someway to take the horrid look of despair out of his lovers eyes. He barely noted how Mello turned his hip preventing Matt from seeing his groin. It wasn't soemthing that Matt had never seen before, it was just...the fear. Mello was affraid to let Matt look at him. At the moment Matt was no more than a stranger. And who in the world wanted a stranger to look at the sex organs?

Matt knealed on the floor in front of Mello and caressed his cheek gently, his eyes scanning the body, taking in every briuse and wound. Without thinking he made a feeble attempt to embrace the flesh and bone figure before him, only to have Mello jerk back violently in an attempt to break free of the touch.

Mello trembled and breathed heavily. He didn't want to back away from Matt, but he didn't want to be touched either. But most of all he didn't want to hurt Matt, who looked completely devistated, not understanding why Mello wouldn't allow him to hug him.

"M-my ribs. H-he broke three of my ribs, I-It hurts. I'm sorry." Mello stared at Matt helplessly. "I need a doctor Matt. I need them to remove the ribs and that's all. Once they fix that I'll sneak out. I can fix wounds, but... bones I can't." Mello whimpered and Matt nodded, still hurt.

"Where are the keys?" He said, pointing at the handcuffs. Mello shook his head. "Can you walk?" He asked, knowing the answer the instant he spotted the shackles.

"Barely." Mello tryed to avoid looknig into Matt's eyes. They looked so devastated and confused. Like a lost puppy trying to seek shelter in a rain storm.

"Can I cary you?" Matt asked, a hopeless look in his eyes. A hopelessness different from Mello's.

Mello nodded. "Just, be gentle...you know?" Matt tried desperatly to prevent Mello any discomfort, but it was next to impossible. Mello's back had been torn to shreds, obviously by whips, and two of the broken ribs Matt could feel stabbing into his forearm as he lifted Mello up, knowing that they were noe pressing against organs inside of Mello causing him to be hurt. There was no way around causing him discomfort.

"I-I'll take you to the living room. He has a large couch I can lay you there and try to find soemthing to get the chains off you." Chains. Mello knew Matt only said it to shelter himself from the reality that Mello was in cuffs and shackles like a slave.

Mello wanted to say no, to tell Matt not to leave him alone, that he'd been left alone for too long, but he decided against it. Matt was already panicked enough, he ddin't need more stress.

Matt did as he said he would. left Mello on the couch, returned to the garage, locked the door so if, by some satanic mirical, the man had somehow survived and would be able to get up and attack, he'd be locked in. He then returned to Mello and began looking over the locks on the 'chains,' as he called them.

"Simple," Matt said. Despite the softness of his voice Mello still flinched at the suddeness of the words. Matt frowned. " ican pick both of them with a bobby pin. Think he has any?" Mello breathed heavily, Matt was unsure as you why.

"H-he does," Mello said, a tremor running down his spine. Even bobby pins were sex toys for the crazed man.

"I'll be right back, I'll check his room." Matt offerend Mello a weak smile and turned and searched the upstairs for the man's room. It took him ten minutes to return, six bobby pins, just incase some break. Mello panicked at the mere sight of the tiny metal hair accesories.

The instant Matt placed one on the bobby pins in the lock to the handcuffs Mello jerked back agaisnt the couch hard trying to get away from the tiny wire. He began breathing unevenly, his eyes filled with fear.

/He's changed so much.../ Matt thought sadly. /That man hurt him so much that he's actually affriad of something, and not even trying to hide it either... Mello..../ Despite how much Mello tried to pull away from the pins, Matt managed to undo the locks on both hands, smiling at the tiny fact that the cuffs hadn't been clicked on so tight that they broke the skin. It didn't even look as if Mello had been cuffed. But the shackles were different. Too many times Mello had jerked his leg causing the metal to dig into his skin, breaking the flesh open and allowing them to bleed and then get infected after the metal was repeatadly rubbed against the wounds.

"There, your completely free now. Do you know if he kept your clothes Mello? The last thing I want to do is put you in that sick fuck's clothes.

"I don't know Matt. But I'm cold." Mello stared at Matt emptily. Matt looked at his feet and then back at Mello's dull eyes.

"I'll tell you what Mello. This guy has a nice bathtub. I'll get you a bath ready and clean you up a bit alright? I mean, I can't take you to the hospital looking like this." It was the truth, most of Mello's skin was tinted red from blood, an easy fix.

"A-alrgiht." Mello found himself even more reluctant to let Matt leave his sight again to prepare the bath, and even more fear as Matt picked him up again to carry him up the stairs to the awaiting bath. With each thing that Mello saw he flinched, some things he recogniosed, other things he didn't, but all were equally intimidating.

When the bathtub came into view Mello began panicking again. He knew the bath would do nothing but help him, but soemthing about it scared him. Maybe it was the invoulintary flashes of images in his mind of Matt drowning him. Matt would never even think to hurt him, but Mello was unsure of everything now. He was unsure of that bathtub, and of Matt.

The instant one of his feet touched the skin of the water Mello jerked back against Matt, his sudden jolt causing Matt to loose his balace and fall backwards, in the end drooping Mello who managed to slam his head on the sink on his way down.

Mello, yelped and whimpered, like a dog that had been beaten. He squirmed over to the corner formed by the bathtub and the wall and stayed there trembling.

"Mello! Are you alright?" Matt placed a hand on Mello's shoulder only to hear Mello gasp and tense up. "I'm so sorry Mello, I didn't expect you to flinch so badly." Mello said nothing. He'd found a new 'spot' and didn't want to move away from it. Not for anything, not even for Matt. "Mello..." Mello sighed soflty as if to signal that he knew Matt was there. "You have to get in the tub Mello." Matt attempted to pull Mello from the corner as gently as he could only to hear Mello let out what sounded like a choked sob. "Mello? Did you get hurt? What's wrong with you?" Matt whimpered a little and Mello knew that Matt was trying not to cry himself. Matt never cried about anything, like Mello, but it was obvious that stress and hurt was eating away at him like termites on a wooden deck.

"I'm sorry...I-i got scared. Th-that's all." Mello turned his head away from the corner and looked back at Matt who had pulled his goggles down over his eyes, darkening them to make it harder to see ifhe was crying already or not. "Did you get hurt?"

"No! I'm fine." Matt forced a smile and reached to touch Mello's hair only to have the blonde jerk away. The smile vanished instantly.

"I can get into a bath myself you know?" Mello said, trying to take on his old personality. It barely worked, he didn't feel like himself. Weakly he tried to stand on his own, Matt supporting him like a crutch. One of his loose ribs stabbed at his insides causing him to whimper loudly and real with pain, but once he sat down in the tub the bone shifted to where he barely felt its resence at all.

Almost instantly the water turned a shade of pink which began darkening as Matt gently rubbed Mello's skin with a wash cloth, working off the dried blood. After a complete ten minutes the watered had turned a transparent red that made Matt's stomache churn. Mello had fallen unconcious.

After draining and refilling the tub twice, the water had finally turned just a very pale translucent pink from the fresh wounds Mello had acquired from Matt rubbing off infected scabs. With Mello asleep things became easier. As he dried Mello off to the best of his abilites he didn't have to worry about Mello getting frigtened and flinching and managing to hurt himself.

He found six rolls of gauze and several boxes of bandaides in the bathroom cupboard. Matt propped Mello up agaisnt the wall and proceded to disinfect all open wounds he could find with hydrogen peroxide and wrap Mello's entire back, nearly every lash wound had been reopened and needed bandaged, and six other sever wounds on Mello's arms and legs. Only ten minor wounds were found that needed bandaides.

Matt carried the unconcious figure of his lover and friend to the bed room and placed him in the center of the bed to rest while he scoured the house for Mello's clothes. Miraculosly enough, he found them in a spare bedroom that was filled with numerous whips and other sex toys that all appeared to be stained with blood, most likely Mello's. The thought was sickening.

He took the clothes and headed back to Mello and began dressing the blonde who still reamined unconcious. With the pants in palce Matt couldn't help but notice how much weight Mello'd lost being with the man. His pants were loose enough that without their belt thet were sure to fall right past Mello's hips down to the floor. The belt had to be tightened four nothches past where Mello usually kept it. The thought was sad.

With all wounds hidden behind clothes, and Mello's face completely unharmed, he looked just like his old self, but one thing was missing. Matt pulled the roasry out of his pocket and twisted it around Mello's hand, not wanting to place anything around Mello's neck. Even in his sleep Mello fought against anything that even caressed the flesh of his neck.

Before turning to leave the room, Matt placed a soft kiss on Mello's parted lips only to have Mello whimper and roll over, scared, even in his sleep. He had been ruined.

Matt left the room and headed down to the kitchen. Mello had been straved, it was obvious, the least he could do for Mello now was give him something to eat and drink.

Opening the fridge Matt found numerous pieces of fresh food, unfortuanatly, nothing so simple as a TV dinner. Obviuosly the man was into fine dinning and had rich taste. Matt found numerous cook books hidden in the cupboard. He didn't want to do it, but he decided that it was more than necessary to at least attempt to make Mello a good meal. The poor guy deserved one.

It didn't need to be a big meal, but a decent one. And after thirty minutes of flipping through cook books and over twenty minutes of finding and measuring ingredients, Matt was prepared to attempt to make an edible dish all made from scratch.

In two and a half hours after all preperation was done Matt had managed to pull of a decent, unburnt meal for one. He chosen a seemingly simple main course, Chicken Cordon Bleu. It was, after all the only thing that he had all the ingredients to make. Two chicken breasts, compliments of the freezer,eight slices of swiss cheese and small cutlets of ham, compliments of the fridge, a breaded coating made from cheap flour, paprika, and a little bit of some spice called dill weed that managed to get into the mix by accident. All in all making that main dish Matt managedto only get burnt twice. Once by oil from the skillet that it was fried in and a second time by bumping his wrist into the skillet when trying to flip over one of the folded up browning morsles. (He naturally removed his glaves to do the cooking as to not ruin them.)

For a quick side dish he found a fast and easy recippe for mashed potatoes that he some how managed to work on while attending the chicken in the skillet. He let the potatoes fit in as two sies. Usually one would have a main dish, mashed potatoes with some sort of vegatable as a second side, but no vegatables could be found and Mello wouldn't eat them anyway. He hated eating 'plants.' But Matt wasn't sure if that fact had changed. Mello was probably willing to eat anything.

Matt was carelessly, now tired of messing with food, throwing the food onto a plate when he heard Mello calling for him. Obviously terrifed from waking up alone.

"I'm coming Mello!" Matt called loudly, but not quite a shout. He grabbed the plate, a fork, and two bottles of water out of the fridge, one for Mello and one for himself, and then headed briskly up the stairs to Mello. Mello who was no longer sitting on the bed, but huddled up in the far corner of the room, pressed up agaisnt the man's dresser. "Hey, Mello, guess what." Mello turned his head slowly towards Matt, eyes turning from frightened to pleading the instant he saw the plate of food. "It's not exactly the best but I made it for you. There wasn't any chocolate so there's no desert." He forced on a smile, but frowned quickly as he noticed how Mello refused to move. "Are you feeling any better?" Matt asked as he walked towards Mello who noticably flinched at every step.

"Yeah... A-a lot better." Matt sat down on the floor next to Mello and sat the plate of food on the floor between them, not handing it to Mello knowing that he would flinsh away from it. He did however hand him the fork, making sure that the point was facing down, not pointing towards the blonde that was already terrified enough. "Y-you made th-this for me?" Mello asked, accepting the fork after a moments hesitation. He eyed the bottles of water in Matt's other hand and reflexivly grabbed one of them and uncapped it as fast as he could before drinking down nearly half of the bottle before Matt made him stop.

"You drink too much and you'll get sick. Try eating something, I worked hard on it for you." Mello smiled, an obviuosly forced smile, but it helped put Matt at ease. Mello was feeling well enough to crawl out of the bed and over to a corner, it proved that he wasn't in as bad of shape as he'd previously feared.

Mello stabbed at he chicken a few times before abandoning the fork by throwing it across the room and picking up the chicken with his hands and eating it that way. Eating liked the starved man he was, Mello nearly forgot to chew before swallowing.

He finished both pieces of chicken before he finally stopped eating to take another drink, this time finishing the bottle of water and staring at the one Matt had gotten for himself. Matt handed it to him glad to be of service. Mello picked lightly at the mashed potatoes but refused to eat more than three bites.

"Thank you, Matt," Mello said quietly befroe laying down on the floor, just barely missing the plate. "C-can I go back to sleep?" Mello asked, whimpering slightly, almost as if he expected Matt to tell him no.

"Of course, Mello." Matt grabbed the plate and attempted to stand only to have Mello gently grab onto his ankle, silently begging him to stay close by. "Mello, I'm just gonna take the plate downstairs. I'll be back in a second." Mello stared at him, his eyes pleading.

"No. Stay with me." Mello whimpered and Matt sat back down, placing the plate down a good distance away.

"Alright Mello. I won't leave you." Matt reached down slowly to stroke Mello's hair, and suprisingly, Mello didn't flinch. Instead he sighed and fell into unconciousness once again. That's when Matt noticed it. Mello wasn't wearing his roasary. It wasn't on his hand where Matt had put it, and it didn't appear to be in eaither of Mello's pockets, so what had the blonde down with it.

He stood up, grabbing the two bottles of water and the palte, retrived the fork and took them downstairs. Nearly the instant the dishes hit the sink Matt heard Mello scream. Fearing for the worst Matt sprinted back up the stairs to find Mello now huddled on the hallway, rather than where he'd been left.

"Mello? What's the Matter?" Matt went to put a hand only Mello's shoulder, Mello jerked away roughly, glaring coldly at Matt.

"You said that you weren't going to leave," Mello said, bitterly. "Aren't you aware that I've spent enough time all by myself? Where did you go?" After eating and a short fifteen minute nap, Mello's usual energy was restored.

"I'm sorry Mello. I'm trying to make it look less like someone else was here. It's gonna be hard enough getting out of here without being seen. Once someone stops in and sees that dead guy we're going to be main suspects. Oh yeah, where did you put your little crossy thing?" Little crossy thing meaning the roasary, Matt always called it everything but rosary, claimed that he didn't like the word rose.

"I put it over there," Mello said, pointing into the bedroom. "But don't go in there." Mello grabbed onto Matt's arm and held it as if for dear life.

"Why? What's in there?" Matt stared at Mello, knowing that there was no chance of anyone hidding in there, he'd already checked when he was searching for bobby pins.

"That bastards in there! He saw me. And he kept staring at me." Matt began wondering what Mello was even talking about. There was no chance that the man had survived being pummled by the bat. Perhaps he was talking about a photograph.

Indeed, he was. Matt had managed to pry loose of Mello's grip and enter the room to retrive Mello's roasary which Mello had left on the floor in front of the window. The man had a photo of himself with some woman on his dresser. It was a small picture and was suprised that Mello even noticed it.

"Here's your little crossy thing," Matt said, setting the rosary down on the floor infront of Mello who just picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket claiming that he didn't want anything to be around his neck.

Matt would've made an attempt to be more serious about the situation at hand, but he was sure that Mello didn't want him to be serious. To be serious at that time would cause Mello to stress, what he needed was something to make him laugh. It was obvious that he hadn't done much laughing in the past five weeks. Of course, Mello didn't laugh much, but at least usually once a day, mostly out of sick sense of humor.

"Do you want to leave Mello?" Matt asked with a blank expression.

"No shit! You think I wanna stay in this hell hole?" Mello managed to stand up weakly without Matt's help, obviuosly feeling a littel stronger. "But I have to use the bathroom first." Mello walked weakly over to the open door of the bathroom.

Matt stayed in the hall, respecting Mello's privacy despite the fact that he didn't bother to shut the door. Trying not to pay any mind to the familiar sound of his boyfriend pissing, but the unusual reoccuring whimpers made it hard to ignore.

"Mello. Everything alright?" The sound of urination stopped, the whimpers didn't however they were inturupted and made unclear by the loud sound of the flushing toilet.

"No..." That was his reply.

"What's the Matter?" As if he didn't already have a clue. After going a long time without pissing, you almost always bleed.

"I want to go to the hospital." Mello came out of the bathroom looking more than depressed. Even if he felt perky and energetic, he was starting to realize that his body didn't exactly feel the same way.

"Alright, we'll leave after I use the bathroom myself." So Matt wnet to the bathroom, and during the thirty second period of his absance, Mello got bored and decided to open the only closed door he could see. The door to the spare bedroom.

The first thing Matt heard was a loud thud, and then frantic screaming and whimpering. He came tearing out of the bathroom after reflexivly flushing the toilet, trying to zip his pants to find Mello huddled up agianst the open bathroom door, curling into the angle formed by it and the wall. /What is it with him an corners?/ Matt found himself wondering.

"You alright Mello? What's the Matter? What happened?" Then he spotted the open door to the guest room.

"That room! Th-that room! He's used everything in that room on me." Mello tried to get further into the corner formed by the door only to have the soor start closing from him pushing on it. He began whimpering frantically, panicking the way he always did when he lost one of his spots.

"It's alright, Mello. He's dead now, he can't hurt you anymore. He's gone, and I'm here so no one will ever be able to hurt you again, alright?" Matt once again attempted to touch Mello's shoulder, to offer him some comfort. However, all he did was cause Mello to panick even more. Jerking away from the hand managing to slm his head into the wall and then try to scoot away from his 'attacker.' "Mello, damnit! I'm not gonig to hurt you!" Matt yelled, mostly hurt, not realizing how intimidating his tone of voice was.

Nearly painfully, Matt grabbed Mello into a tight embrace, Mello jerked away at frist, but soon dropped his efforts and meerly trembled in Matt's arms, accepting the comfort Matt was trying to offer.

"I want to go to the hospital now," Mello said in a shakey voice. Matt didn't move for a moment, it was only when mello started trying to flinch away again that Matt let go and stood up, helping Mello to his feet.

"Alright then, let's get going." It was always like Mello to want to get better quick, if only he knew how long it would take for all of his wounds to heal.

~Alice von Wonderland

Closing Note: I would like to apologize for any misspellings or bad grammer that might have sppeared in my story. The software I am using does not have a spell check, but I've done my best to fix all of my obvious errors.

Please Rate and Review

I'm not sure when chapter two will be up, but it should be soon. I have a plot for the chapter, but I'm not too sure that it will be as long or as interesting as this one. Mostly Mello getting out of the hospital (because no one wants to read about doctors and medicine and IV bags and limited visiting hours) and just wanting to lay on the couch 24 / 7. And most imporantly Mello seems to be more timid than ever stretching Matt's patients to the breaking point. Will he be able to handle Mello's violent reactions to being touched or not? Just wait and see loves...

Until next time

Alice Von Wonderland


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