All The Way Here

It took Matt a few moments to realize that this wasn't another person passing by in the street. It was Mello, sitting back down at their sidewalk table, with his head buried under hood and hair. No bags of shopping or other outward clues showed where he had been, but Matt knew the man well enough to not suspect there was something deadly hidden in the folds of his jacket. Still concentrating on his game, Matt snapped,

"You've been gone an hour!"



"I have?" Mello blinked down at Matt's watch and shrugged. "Ok, we haven't got time to mess around. You get back on the things you didn't do yesterday. I've got somewhere to go."



"Where the fuck am I supposed to get a...?" Matt paused as a commotion broke out further down the street, then mumbled sharply, "fucking CS gas launcher in New York? I tried for hours yesterday and..."



"Ssh." Mello's whole stance was on red alert, though the uninitiated onlooker might have mistaken it for casual watchfulness. He nodded to the animated discussions taking place outside a restaurant thirty yards away, then turned to see another exchange happening behind them. "Something's happening."



Matt stood suddenly and walked into the cafe behind them. He was practically known there now, he'd had so many cups of tea. He emerged a second later, face ashen, and beckoned Mello inside. On the television screen, the vice president of the United States of America was informing the world that he would do nothing to stop Kira. Though he wouldn't openly support him, he would not lead his country into the dangers of resistance. "What the fuck?"



Mello quietly whispered,

"He's afraid that Kira will use the Death Note to force him to do something like press the button. Nuke somewhere."



"What warped fucking mind would come up with...?" Matt began, then noticed the glaring of other patrons. It was starting to get so that supporters of the mass murderer were becoming more open. As if those in opposition were in the wrong. "Mind you, it's Kira, so nothing surprises me."



On the screen, high on a shelf behind the cafe's counter, the vice president went on, "... and organized crime in the United States, as well as other countries, is on the brink of being wiped out."



Mello tugged on Matt's sleeve, then strode out without even glancing to see if he was being followed. Matt had to run to catch up, but soon matched his fast pace. They were fortunately only a few blocks from their hotel, because as fit as Matt liked to think he was, that speed was starting to tug at his lungs. Mello was a mass of tension beside him, punching the lift wall with a loud clang as soon as they were hidden within it. Matt raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.



Once inside their room, Mello peeled off his jacket and threw it against the clothes rail. "Matt, you're stay here." He yanked out the metal briefcase and flicked through the documents within. "I need Near's whereabouts. Get on the computer and, I don't know, hack the fucking Pentagon if you have to. I need you to be my eyes and ears. I want to be able to see through any surveillance camera in this city."



Unfazed, Matt took off his jacket and switched on the desktop. It was going to involve more hardwiring than the laptops would cope with. "How long are we staying here? Only we... I should pay for extra nights."



Mello nodded, opening a bag and extracting sums of money. This he thrust at Matt, before reaching for the suitcase. The weaponry inside had all been sorted into a precise order, so Mello barely had to look before extracting a .45 and handing it to Matt. "I know you prefer the Beretta M9, but there's only one and I've got it. Do you know what you're doing with that?"



Matt shrugged. "Depends who I'm killing." A smirk, quickly wiped as he recalled the time he had been forced to kill for real.



"Matt, I'm not joking around. You use a weapon that you don't know what to do with and it ends up being used on you." A glare. "Don't get yourself shot. Look in there to see if there's anything you'd prefer."



"Stop." Matt ordinarily had no problem following Mello's lead. Whatever the situation, the plans would be meticulously thought out or else brilliant in their improvisation, but this was different. His lover had asked him to stay, which implied that Mello was going, and now guns were involved. "Are we at war?"



"I wish you'd get your head out of your freaking arse for more than thirty seconds at a time." Mello blazed, opening the little fridge and removing several bars of chocolate. "We've been at war for years."



"I meant more than usually?"



"Right, Matty, how can I put this?" Mello's tone dripped sarcasm. "We've done 63 rounds of lesser monsters and now we're close to the boss with no healers in sight. Our bloody hitpoints level is low and we could really do with boosting it. Now can you fucking hack the City of New York or not?"



"Yes." Matt replied softly. He understood that now wasn't the time to bristle under slights and exclusions. It was time to trust in what he already knew to be true. "What am I looking for when I'm in?"



"Anything and everything. Use your brain and tell me what's happening out there. Look for Near, please." Mello picked up his jacket again. "I'll call you from time to time. Ask you for more." He paused and looked at Matt with an unreadable expression. "Don't call me, no matter what happens." Mello double-checked the gun in the front of his waistband, though he'd done that before and hadn't used it since. At least, Matt thought with a sinking feeling, as far as he knew. "If you leave this room, make it just for cigarettes and food, then come right back. I'm counting on you."



Every time Mello left him, Matt knew that it was probably into something dangerous. He didn't usually let it register for the simple reason that he would spend his entire life in a state of abject worry if he did. This time felt so different. Mello always just dressed and left, he didn't plan his whole operations in same room and make it quite so clear there could be fatalities. It was impossible to ignore. It chilled Matt to the core.



While etiquette seemed to demand that Matt stood there and mutely received his orders, he couldn't do it. He crossed the distance in three wide strides and grabbed Mello's shoulders. His own gaze slid from the flare of blue fury, but Matt leaned towards him nontheless and kissed Mello fiercely on the lips. Matt made to step back, but a hand rose to clasp the back of his head. Mello looked at him appraisingly, before pulling the redhead into a bearhug. "I'm coming back."



"Make sure you do." Matt spoke gruffly. "Just watch yourself out there, eh?"



Mello pulled back, a cocksure grin transforming his features into a mask of pure danger. "It's not me who has to watch out." He winked. "It's any fucker who wants to get in my way. Don't worry about me." His jacket on again now, hood up. "Stay safe, Matty."



Matt nodded and watched him leave.