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Annals of Fear II	By : DeathNoteFangirl Category: Death Note > Yaoi-Male/Male > Mello/Matt Views: 5803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note and I do not make any money from these writings

Chapter List
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Mello had felt like this before.   The memory of it rang like a shrill note through the ages piercing his sensibilities anew.   It was as a child, in Wammy's House, watching Near just pip him in the grades once more.   Everyone crowded around the boy, congratulating him, while Near would never be able to resist a little glance towards Mello. A little smile beneath wide, unexpressive eyes.   Mello had cowered inside then. Disappointment, disillusionment, desperation.   He had worked so hard, up all night studying, reading through piles of volumes in a bid to make connections. All of those obscure facts and figures thrown into his essays to give him the edge, but Near always won.

Now here he was, over half a decade later, in another communal hall with the same people having witnessed his humiliation.   Century, Fenian and Deontic were huddled together by the entrance to the kitchen, glancing occasionally back into Mello's direction.   He wanted to cry. He wanted to cower. He wanted to take his gun, his fists, and smash their petty faces out of ever seeing him again. He wanted to flee.   He wanted to show them.   He wanted to do something so mind-blowingly amazing that they would gasp and cheer his greatness.   He wanted to be out of here, alone with Matt, raging and screaming and crying and holding him so fucking tightly.

The memory of the dark thing was still keenly at the periphery of Mello's mind.   He could practically touch it, with just a reaching out of mind; he could remember its terror as an imprint on his soul.   Something so utterly black and fathomless, that it would drag him into the abyss, bodily and with sanity intact, so he could experience his doom in all its horror.   Mello's arm tightened around Matt.   Matt just went on playing his PSP.   So silent.   Mello breathed.   There were things to do here.   He knew now what had happened to those people.   He had the data to use to solve this case.   But first he had to get Matt back.   His beautiful Mail, who had withdrawn into his shell like a hermit crab hiding.

The door opened with that signature rush of sea wind.   Hal and Kiana hurried into the building, slamming out the elements behind them.    Kiana dashed across to the troop of Wammy alumni; but Hal only glanced at them, before striding across to the back wall, where Mello sat holding his man.   She paused before them and smiled, "It's back beneath the tree."

Mello nodded.   He opened his mouth to speak, fearing that he would have no voice in the hoarseness of his throat. But his words emerged clear enough.   "We know."   Then, as an afterthought, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."   Hal crouched down and pulled a chocolate bar out of her coat pocket.   She held it up, but Mello matched her with a chocolate bar in his own hand.   She nodded. "You're being looked after." She placed the chocolate on the floor beside him.

Siân stepped out of the kitchen with a tray.   Plates of reheated pizza steamed upon it, as she moved across to place it on the table.   Mello watched Hal follow its progress with her eyes and waited until she looked at him again.   "Did anything happen at the house?"

Hal shook her head.   "Nothing to write home about.   Kiana was seeing ghosts, I think.   She did a ritual and put the bottle back. I was just moral support and gate opener, but I saw nothing untoward."

"Go and eat pizza."

"Are you alright, Mello?"   Hal met his eyes, then opened her hands towards him.   Mello got the hint, as she knew that he would, but he surprised her by acting upon it.   He released Matt and leaned forward, holding Hal in a bear-hug.    She reciprocated, understanding just how scared the Slav had been and how shaken he remained.   She murmured into his ear.   "It will be alright." Hal was aware of eyes burning into her and glanced across the back of Mello's head.   Matt was staring, his game forgotten.   Hal smiled reassurance at him too, but the redhead didn't even blink.    She whispered, "It's ok, Matt."

Mello squeezed his arms around her, but then let go and sat back.   "Go and get your pizza, Hal."   He told her, but his eyes had met Matt's and held the gaze.   "I need to sort out Mail."   Matt just let his eyes drop back to the PSP and they were all shut out again.   Hal winced and stood.   She wandered across to the table, glancing back just once.   Mello wanted to hold onto her, because he didn't feel safe right now and she felt like someone he could rely upon. He mumbled, "Mail, don't shut me out." Mello put his arm around Matt's back and kissed the side of his husband's head, but there was no response but the beeping, playing of the game. Mello watched the others cluster around the table.   Hal, Deontic, Century, Fenian, Kiana and Siân, all taking pizza and sitting with their slices.   It felt so wrong.   Mello breathed, "Right."   But his ideas were being shot down in his own head as soon as he thought them.   He was going to go to bits here.   He was going to crack up.   He turned his attention to the planes being blown up in Matt's game, watching them for a while in the hope of a quiet mind.   It didn't come. He whispered into Matt's ear. "Watari."

Matt paused the game and looked at him. A moment later, Matt reached across and took Mello's left hand.   He pushed it upwards, with its clutched cargo of chocolate, against Mello's lips. The command was barely audible. "Eat."

"I don't want chocolate. I want you."   Mello told him.   "And I want out of here."   As soon as he said it, Mello rose, pulling Matt to his feet behind him.   Everyone turned around to see.   With more confidence than he felt, Mello stated firmly, "I'm taking him back to the chalet."

Deontic sighed, "Mello, we've been through this.   I don't think you're out of the water yet. How can we protect you against yourself, if you're out of sight in a chalet?"

"Tough."   Mello replied, zipping up his coat and dragging Matt towards the door.   "I need to sort him out."

Hal raced across, stepping in the way, her hands wide.   "Mello. Stop.   If you go out there, then we'll be forced to follow you.   You will have an escort all the way down to your chalet; and I won't let you shut the door without one of us inside there with you."   She maintained eye contact. "Mello, please."

Mello could feel them all watching him.   Their eyes were boring holes into his back.   "Hal," he enunciated, as steadily as he could, "don't make me upset Century."

There was the faintest scraping noise, as Century's chair was pushed an inch or so back.   They had all put together the veiled threat and the Welshman was ready to flee at the first sign of a gun.   Hal nodded, "Fine.   But, for a start, you're not armed, and secondly, you're taking Matt out of our protection as well."

Mello glared.   This was becoming embarrassing.   He growled, "Don't corner us, Hal.   Just let us pass, like a good girl."

"So you can hide in your chalet and potentially get wound up enough to commit suicide?   So you can leave in an hour to find a Catholic church?" Hal countered.   "Mello, please see sense. For Matt's sake, if not your own."

Mello heard movement and glanced to the side.   Kiana and Siân were hurrying into the kitchen area.   He heard the door close behind them.   "Heh."   Mello looked over his shoulder, at Fenian, Century and Deontic, all sitting stoically at the table.   Beside him, Matt lit a cigarette.   "I was right about what the music does to people.    I was right about that."

"Yes." Deontic replied carefully.   "You were, Mello.   And you were right about what will stop it.   At this moment, no-one in the world, subject to that music, is hurting themselves.   I think that is a safe deduction."

"Dee, tell Hal why she should let us go back to our chalet."

Deontic shook her head. "I can't do that.   Hal is right.   You should be where we can see you."

"Oh Dee."   Mello breathed.   "Think about the children."

"I am."   She cringed.   Mello felt a flare of fury burn up inside. He gripped it tightly, reining it back down.   Deontic hurried on. "Mello, if I had a candle, I would put it in the window to give you courage and I wouldn't stop looking at you until it was over."

"Nice sentiment."   Mello growled.   He took a step forward and so did Hal.   Beside him, Matt side-stepped her and moved behind the blonde woman.   Mello had no idea what Matt was planning, but he smiled and looked at his husband over her shoulder.    Hal was forced to half turn to keep them both in view, but one was always in a blind spot.   Mello summoned all the coldness of his Mafia past and hoped that it froze his gaze.   "Hal, give it up.   Someone is going to get hurt."

Fenian groaned, "Just fucking let him go."

Deontic rapidly shook her head.   "You have no idea of the reality of this.   Fenian, help Hal."

"Fuck no."   Fenian replied.   "If Mello wants to hang himself, let him.   I already did my bit today."   He gestured towards his face, which held the marks of their earlier fight.   "I vote to let him go."

Mello sneered, "I don't need your fucking vote to go where I want to!"    He moved behind Hal, who swung around to grab him, exposing her back to Matt.    A moment later, there was a knife to her throat, which even shocked Mello, though he managed not to show it.   Mello leapt forward and caught both of Hal's wrists in his hands.   Around the table, both Fenian and Century had stood, while Deontic just sat there with her hands at her mouth.   Mello narrowed his eyes and hissed, "Out of respect for you, Hal, I'm going to let you go.   But don't ever try to stop us again."    He nodded to Matt and they simultaneously released Hal, moving quickly to the door.   No-one stopped them as Mello yanked it open and shoved Matt outside.   He half wished that they had.   The night still felt laden with threat.

Matt pushed his knife back into his boot.   Mello had taken two long strides down the slope, but he stopped and waited.   Matt glanced back at the door, but evidently no-one was coming out.   He hurried after his husband and his arm was gripped.   They fled towards the chalets, only slowing when they were halfway down and it seemed that no-one was in pursuit.   Matt caught Mello's sharp glance at him and gave a half-shrug.

"I can't believe you just pulled a knife on Hal."   Mello kept a bruising grip on Matt's arm, marching into their chalet.   It felt like a thousand years since they were last in there.   Mello closed the door behind them and looked at the detritus of their living area. The bed still needed to be made.   There were leads everywhere from whatever Matt had been doing before he'd left.   Mello closed the curtains and put on the light.   The illumination didn't make him feel any less rattled.   "Mail."   Mello waited, but Matt didn't even look at him.   He was just standing there.   "Mail."   Nothing.   "Mail."   Now Matt looked up.   "I see you."

"What?" Matt mouthed.

"You must have been as frightened as I was and you went into your shell.   You're still in your shell." Tears were blinding Mello's eyes now.   "I see you, Mail Jeevas.   I see you and I will never stop seeing you.   I will never leave you on your own.   I see you."   He wiped his eyes and saw Matt standing impassively there.   "I know what you want. You want me to beat the crap out of you.   Just like you wanted when I brought you home last year.   Just like you wanted after Kira.   Just like you always want. Is that what you want?"   There was no response, just Matt standing there looking at him.   Mello let his eyes pass over the bruised cheeks, the swollen lips and eye.   He could not imagine hitting him again.   "Why the fuck did I hurt you so badly?"

Matt flinched.

Mello stared. "It's not your fault.   Oh God."   He wrapped his arms around himself and bowed his head.   "Mail, what the fuck is going on in your head?   I need your help here, baby.   Because if you don't speak up, I'm going to hurt you, thinking that it's what you want.   I just want to get you back to where you feel safe inside your own skin again.   But I'm not doing so well myself.   Help me out here, guapo?"

Matt was suddenly in front of him, his arms out, holding Mello in a cuddle. Matt's whole body was as stiff as a board, but his arms pushed Mello against himself.   Then he stood there.   Hugging.   Mello took the affection.   He freed his own arms and wrapped them around his husband.   They remained there for about a minute, before Matt whispered, "Better?"

Mello nodded, though he wanted to cry with disappointment and humiliation.    "Hal told you to do this, didn't she?   Earlier on."

There was silence for a beat or two, then a quietly spoken, "Yep."

"And I'm in the shit for that tip having to come from Hal, instead of from me?"   Mello waited, but there was no response. It was eloquent enough.   "Mail, I love you to bits, but you're so fucking hard to talk to sometimes.   I can get really bored of one-sided conversations."   He didn't think it possible for Matt to freeze even more, but he did.   "No, no, no. Mail. Stop it.   Please.   I'm not saying that I'm bored with you.   I couldn't get fucking bored with you!   I just need you to tell me what you need. I'm tired of guessing.   I'm..." He paused, considering his words.   Mello was well aware that he was badly shaken himself or else he wouldn't be this inarticulate.   "Mail, I fucking love you. Just tell me how to love you."   There was a sniff.   Mello thought that Matt might be crying. That was alright, so was he.   "Ok. Ok. You can't. I know. You can't.   But fuck's sake, Mail, you're so bloody hurt already.   Why does this always fucking happen?"

Matt raised his head.   His thick, red hair was clinging to his face, wet from the sodden air outside. Even this close, it was hard to tell what expression he wore or even if he was crying.   The hair, rain drops and goggles hid so much.   But Matt cupped Mello's face in two gloved hands and kissed him fiercely.

Mello took it, kissing him back with all the passion in him, but it was no good.   "Mail, I need more from you.   I need more. I've got it wrong before.   I was the devil to you in Japan, thinking you wanted it.   I, oh fuck! Mail! I tied you to a bed for weeks! You're looking to me for answers and I get it wrong!"

"No, Mello." Matt whispered. "You don't get it wrong."

"What?!" Mello felt that flash of anger rage through.   He shoved Matt back onto the bed, then yelled over him.   "How can you lie to me?   Right now! In the middle of this shit, how can you lie to me?!"   Mello fought for self-control, watching Matt shield his own head with his arms.   "Telling me what I want to hear!"

"Mihael..."

There was a loud banging on the door, which cut Matt off before he had really started talking.   Mello roared in frustration, screaming at the door.   "Go away!"

Deontic's voice was still quiet, even raised against the wind and rain, "Mello, we're just worried about you.   Can I just...?"

Mello whipped the chalet door open and stood there glaring at her.    Deontic wasn't alone.   Hal was beside her.    Mello looked from one to the other and he knew that his eyes were blazing.   Even Hal took a step back.    Mello bellowed into their faces, "What do you want from me?"

Deontic's lips were firmly pressed together.   It was Hal who replied, "Mello, let us all just calm down here.   Let's go inside and..."

Mello reached out and grabbed an arm of each of the two women.   He yanked them inside, swinging Hal off-balance onto the bed.    She narrowly missed Matt, as she fell.    Then Mello ran.   He took off into the night, rushing down towards the beach, where it was darkest.   He heard Deontic's cry a second before he leapt down onto the shale, out of view behind the high bank of sand and foliage.    Mello had no idea if the tide was in or out.   It was loud.   Smashing against the shore like it had a vendetta against the rocks.   Powerful, all-encompassing, above all loud.   It covered the sound of his footfalls over the uneven surface, as he hurtled into the blackness.   In the opposite direction to the town, just running to where it was darkest and no-one could look at him or expect anything from him anymore.

He'd gone somewhere between half a mile and a mile when realisation crashed like a ton of bricks. He'd abandoned Matt.   "Fuck!"   Mello screamed into the raging crash of ocean and wind, then he just screamed.   A primal release of everything inside. He scrabbled at the rocks beneath his feet and grabbed all that he could lift, flinging them one after the one into the surf. Like a switch flicked inside him, the overwhelming rush of emotion subsided and he could breathe again.   Mello took a couple of deep, long breaths and turned back to where the lighthouse was a distant flash of illumination.   The wind was against him. He could hear the faint calling of female voices.   "Ok."   He told himself.   "Go back. Apologise to Mail.   Pound him into the mattress if that's what it takes.   Get the fuckers off our backs."   He was wasting time.   Matt would be losing the plot by now.   Mello started running back into the direction he had come.   He was soon level with the communal hall, though that was above his head.   He hadn't gone as far as he'd thought.

Mello hurried his pace, erupting onto the tarmac, just as Deontic appeared around a car with her hood up.   "Mello!"   She gasped, jogging to his side.   But he wasn't in the mood.   He sprinted to his chalet door, hearing Hal before he saw her.   She was mobilising the local emergency services.   The rest of his chalet was empty.

"Hold on!" Hal spoke into her 'phone.   "He's back."

"Where's Mail?"

Deontic glanced back to the beach.   "He went after you."

"What?"   Mello's hands rose to his head, then dived into his pocket for his 'phone.   He speed-dialled Matt and heard it ring out on the bed.   "Oh! For fuck's sake!"   He ducked back outside and noted that Matt's car was still there.   "Where did he say he was going?"

"He didn't. He just ran after you."

"And you didn't stop him?"   Mello snapped.    Then he raced off across the turf and leapt from the low wall.   He ran to the beach head and cupped his hands over his mouth to shout, "Mail!"   Beside him, Deontic was yelling too and he respected her for that.   They both stood for long seconds, calling over and over again, "Mail!   Mail!"    While the wind buffeted them and the rain drenched them to the skin.   There was no response.   Mello took a deep breath and tried to consider this logically.   It came easily.   "He didn't come after me. I'd have seen him when I came back.   He'd have assumed that I'd have headed for the town."   His eyes scanned the horizon, but it was all in darkness, but for the lights far away. "Dee, will you take the road?"    She nodded and took off, while Mello searched the sand and tarmac for footprints.   He found a couple, just a few feet away, heading down onto the beach.   He spotted them in Deontic's headlights.   Behind him, Hal was standing in the road.   "He went that way!" Mello called. His second thoughts wondered how he felt better about this.   His third thoughts supplied the answer - you're being a detective.   Mello paid them no more heed, before racing off onto the stone beach, rushing in danger of an ankle overturning on the loose rock.

Mello knew where Matt was before he was halfway there.   A sudden flicker of light sparked partway up the great, solid wall. It took another minute or so until Mello could tell that the wall wasn't as sheer as it seemed. There were huge terraces of concrete providing a kind of giant's staircase up the side.   Near to the top, a thin pinprick of light danced in the darkness.   The wind was against him, but Mello yelled anyway, "Mail!"    A moment later, a shape rose in silhouette at the edge of the wall and stood on top.    It waited, until Mello thought he had been seen.   He was at the foot of the wall now, starting to climb.    It was sheltered here.   That's why Matt had stopped to light a cigarette.   Mello leapt like a mountain goat from shelf to shelf, until he too was at the top.   It was a broad plateau, wide enough for two cars to pass side by side.   The wind smacked him in force, the second his head was clear of the wall.   But Matt wasn't there.     "Fuck's sake!" Mello growled, then yelled again.   "Mail!"

Matt emerged from behind the lighthouse.    He stood at its squat round base, saturated to the skin and staring.   "Mello!"

"Fuck's sake, Mail!   I've been chasing you over half the fucking beach!"   Mello dashed forward, gathering his husband into a harsh hug.    "I'm sorry I ran off. I..."

"Where did you go?"

"Up there."   Mello gestured vaguely, then noticed how the light from the lighthouse combed the beach.   "You clever bastard." He conceded.   "Unfortunately, by the time you were up here, I was down there."   He pointed to the foot of the wall, where the waves battered in an absolute frenzy.   "I'm sorry, Mail.   I'm really sorry. God, you're fucking soaking."

"So are you."

Mello did his best to shelter Matt with his own body, but the wind and rain were pummelling them against the lighthouse.   It afforded scant protection.   "Am I forgiven?"

Matt leaned into him.   "It's not the beating per se, though that is nice. It's you taking me over."

"What?"

"Shall we get out of the rain?"   Matt held up a sodden cigarette.     The wind howled fit to sent them over the side.   The waves roared just a few feet below.

Mello nodded, hooking his arm around his husband and feeling Matt's arm around him too.   "I shouldn't have run out on you." They stepped away from the lighthouse, both men having to catch their breaths.    "Let's keep to the road. Deontic might pick us up."    The lights of the chalets seemed a long way from here.   "Didn't you see us?   Me and Dee stood over there calling you."   He saw Matt shake his head. "It doesn't matter now.   I'm sorry I scared you."   They forced their way, against the elements, along the stone pier and onto the tarmac.    With a little more shelter there, and the wind to their backs, it was a little easier.   "Why don't you ever wear your other coat?   You're dithering."

"I'm fine."

Mello sniffed, wishing that his own coat was wide enough to wrap around them both.   "At least you're talking to me now."

Matt paused, attempting to light a cigarette, though the lighter wouldn't spark.   Mello unzipped his own coat and held it as a windbreak, though the venture was doomed to failure.   "Cacharro estúpido."   Matt glowered, giving up.   "Puto viento."   Mello lifted his coat mostly off his arms and tented it around his own and Matt's heads.   His back was soaked through, but it created a small sheltered space at their chests.   Matt lit his cigarette with an expression of infinite gratitude.   "Gracias."

"De nada."   Mello winked and let his coat drop back over his drenched leather.    Huddled together, they made their way back to the chalet.
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Annals of Fear II