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Re-Route	By : Resting-Madness Category: Death Note > Crossovers Views: 1591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned from Death Note or Silent Hill fandom. I don't own any of the places mentioned in Silent Hill or Death note universe. I make no money from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 4
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Mello would have torn from the restroom had he not been so damned paranoid about what he'd find once outside the safety of the bathroom's battered walls. How could he not be paranoid? And small side note to add onto his ongoing prickeling nerves, he'd locked the door after he and Matt entered and without turning the lock to release himself had pulled the should be locked door open. As if that weren't cause enough for disturbed inner panic, the hospital is in shambles!

'What the hell happened to this place?' Wonders the blond.

The smell, for starters, punched you in the face knocking you right on your ass. It was like old bugs, blood, and death. The walls are brown and rusty, the doors smeared with something akin to rusted blood, some of it still a dark red color. A few blotches of green here and there- who knew what the hell that was. The floor had to be the biggest change, once solid is now filled with diamond shaped holes like a metal fence, a large gaping wound is off to his left. The drop no doubt leading to an abyss somewhere in the basement or maybe lower than that. The windows, strangely, have bars before them. But if his apartment is anything to judge by, the strange changes of the hospital were only going to get worse as he makes his way through it back outside. Leaving seemed the best option if he can't find Matt. Walking cautiously over the screened floors, he couldn't help shooting glances down below spying exposed pipes and even the second floor. This place is a mess. He now more than before wanted out of this place, Matt has always seemed fine enough in the morning when he came to visit him what were the odds the same could be said this time around. That his best plan of action is to simply head down to the main floor and leave altogether. But dammit if he wouldn't feel like the worlds biggest piece of shit for leaving Matt behind in a dangerous situation. Mello has never been one for heroics, but then he's never really had a reason to be a hero. He's lived a life of near solitude but coming here he's actually made a companion.

'Okay. I'll look for Matt, but if I don't find him then I'm out of here.' He declared to himself.

Heading down the hall he could hear screaming, just like before when the patients were being dragged through the hall by some invisible force. He'd been caught, he'd been dragged and popped his head on an open door. It was then that he'd seen the nurse pulling him, seen bits of the hospital in passing look much like it does now. Maybe that's what's happening, he's suffering from a head trauma. He's unconscious, either in the bathroom or a patients room, and he's dreaming all of this right now. But then wasn't he just laying down with Matt at his apartment? So this really is a dream then, a very very vivid dream. He can actually feel his heart slamming against his rib cage, his breaths are definitely pent up in his chest. If this is just a dream he should probably leave as he'd intended to earlier. Rounding the corner it was pure reflex that shot him back a step as a large carving knife came down before him. He got lucky that the blade glinted in the overhead lighting otherwise he'd be sporting a nice-sized slice from the side of his forehead to his jaw. The culprit showed herself stepping out from the darkness of the patients room. Her eyes are completely whited over as if rolled up in her head, mouth slack and hung open, her posture was just as slumped as her mouth. She looked like she'd been through hell and made it out- barely.

The drunken nurse swayed a bit where she stood; it was almost as if she didn't see him at all until her hunched form straightened up, knife in hand and raised up over her head making her appear taller than the 5'6" that she is. Stumbling forward, the nurse chopped at airspace as Mello backed up with each rapid step she took toward him. His back slammed into a wall and he cried out when the point of the knife met with his shoulder opening up a nasty gash down his right arm. Clamping a hand to it to stop the bleeding, he spun himself away to avoid another attack but he wasn't about to miss the opportunity and elbowed the woman in the ear when she about met with the wall while still trying to get at him. Her head hit the wall beside her with a sickening crack. She slumped to the floor writhing in pain, but for some reason the injury wasn't enough to keep her from coming at him, and no sooner had he moved to continue down the hall does she grab onto his leg with her one hand, intending to cut him up with the other.

The knife swung wildly to and fro and she almost connected with his leg had he not come at her with kicks to the head. She groaned something awful, the kind of sound you'd hear in nightmares and wake up swearing to your parents that something is under your bed. It was low and heavy and dragged like a body murdered and taken off to a dumping site. Mello kicked the woman until she let go, and with little structure left to her head he wasn't sure she'd ever do it. No one should take that much pain and still be functioning. But her body finally stilled. Letting out a breath, he knelt down to inspect the mess, but mostly to remove the weapon and use it for himself. If he can still hear patients screaming, there are undoubtly still dangers lurking beyond this one rogue nurse. She moaned again, as if gaining a second wind!

It had to be that thing on her back! At least he was hoping so, as he's very clearly running out of ideas and being chased through the hospital by this invinsible woman was not an idea he cared to babysit. The nurse was about to push herself up from the floor when Mello brought the knife down between her shoulder blades, stabbing the wriggling thing that squirmed beneath the pale green cardigan again and again and three more times for good measure. Her back was a bloody mess by the time he'd finished with her, his hands weren't anymore spotless to show for the work he'd done. But that finally seemed to do the trick, and he watched as the lifeless body bled out over the grated floor. The bubbled blood dripped down onto the floor below where a ruckus seemed to be brewing over it. Wonderful. Maybe he can take the elevator and avoid the second floor altogether? Stepping over the corpse he heads to the double doors that will take him to the elevator. But its locked. Fuck. He'll have to find another way.

His boots skirt around a corner and he makes a mad dash down the hall. If there are any other staff members working on this floor- or whatever you call what they're doing now- he didn't want to run into them. He couldn't help glancing into the opened doors of the rooms with where a light is on and he can see beyond the thin little glass pane placed in the metal door. Some rooms were empty, others.... it was grim. Even in that quick peek in as he whipped by he could see that those people were too far gone to bother saving. Their veins exposed in cut open arms strapped tightly up and off to the side of their head. One man lay in bed with his chest cavity completely removed. His mind instantly went back to Matt and where in this hell he could be. Bursting through the double doors at the end of this hall, he spots two nurses just hanging out in the hall, leaned over in a hard slump, swaying as if they're drunk and just need to find their footing. One fine but can he take two? Maybe there was another way around- or maybe he can beat off one and flee past the other? Seemed the best bet. To his surprise though a groan sounded from one of the rooms, the nurses seemed not to care- at first- oh they perked up at the sound, but when a light came on from a lamp at the woman's bedside the two nurses rushed into the room at full force.

The patients' screams..... he'd remember them. Even in his waking from this nightmare. Too loud, too blood curdling, too.... desperate for help that would not come. And damn it if he didn't feel guilty as he sped on by, glad that he'd had the forsight to turn off his little penlight when he saw that lights in the hall were on. Blinking, but on. He'll just have to make his way by carefully since the floor seemed divided by a large drop. Eyes still needed adjusting, but from the glow coming from the patients room, he can see just enough to get by. Carefully, as quiet as he can keep himself from the weight of his boots on a metal floor, he snuck by. He didn't want to look into the room, but morbid curiousity had his teal gaze turn in just long enough to spot the woman make eye contact with him. Her agony was clear, her spotting him was too chillingly clear and no sooner had her mouth opened to scream again her eyes blanked over as her life slipped away. The nurses continued to scalpal the woman to a point where her dead body was merely convulsing from nerve endings dying individually and spasming the limb its attached to. He grabbed his arm, knowing that he was damned lucky that the slice was all that had happened to him.

Thankfully, the next hall lead him right to an elevator as he knew it would and he pressed the button and climbed on. He was saying a very lengthy prayer in his head, odd considering he didn't believe in anything. He supposed he was being thankful more than praying that the elevator actually worked. Everything is so broken and run down it really was a wonder the thing had power. Only that one hall seemed blessed with the flickering glow of comfort, while everything else is laid in darkness. Down the mechanical box went through the hospital and when the elevator dinged the golden double doors open Mello stepped out into the hall, and just as noisily as they'd opened the golden doors closed. He'd really have prefered the element of surprise but everything seemed to wanna work against him until the last second. Hopefully the halls will be clear from here to the front doors.

Making his way quickly down the hall, his boots screeched as he stumbled to a stop and had to literally throw himself back against the wall. Back plastered, he readies a plan to eliminate the swaying doctor. He looked so normal from this distance. So... human, he might have considered asking the man for help if he didn't know better. As if to drive the point home, the doctor turned so that his back was exposed to Mello showing off a wriggling, jiggling thing stuck beneath his skin just like the nurse had. The creature left a gross, yellow and orange stain on the doctor's white coat. It was wiggling so wildly it was almost like it could sense Mello were there watching. Good thing his light was off. What is the doctor? 175-210 pounds. He can take him right? His grip around the knife clenched in thought. Wrong. He'd better think of something else. The doctor groaned messily over a slackened jaw that looked broken and hanging from its henge when Mello slipped over to a cart knocked onto its side on the wall opposite him.

Hiding, he chewed at his bottom lip in thought. 'Alright, think Mihael... that thing is blocking the door you need. How do you get past him without getting damaged too much?' Fishing through his pants pocket, he finds Matt's lighter. Strange that he would have it, but he doesn't question it. Its actually the incline of his luck, which meant it was about to slope back down if this turn of events was anything to judge by. He got lucky getting Matt and himself to safety, unlucky losing him, lucky that he has a weapon, unlucky that its a knife and this damn place is crawling with a mentally diseased medical staff that just happen to be kill-happy. Damn it! Finds a working elevator, but his exit is blocked and if that closing door and sudden unison of groans meant anything another doctor just joined Kevorkian in the hall. Then it dawned on him as his vision caught sight of the toppled medicine bottles. Cleaning solutions are flamable, if he can locate something to ignite he can burn those fuckers to the ground and get out. Damn this darkness, he can't read the labels over the doors. He saw the map... he can remember. Closing his eyes he mouths the locations of each room before opening his eyes and standing to make his move. The cafeteria will take him to the kitchen where there's bound to be cleaning supplies. He'd use the laundry but the doctors would spot him for sure. Hopefully the kitchen will have what he needs.

Heading around the corner he pushes open the double doors, catching them before they slap closed behind him. It seemed every room in this place has been hit with physical disease as the cafeteria wasn't much better off than the rest of the rooms. Tables were flipped, blood was everywhere, the only real difference was the smell. The cafeteria gave points to the hallways because the smell in there was down right disgusting. It skimmed the lines of very old, and very runny fecis and rotted flesh. Eeew, there even seemed a brush of vomit playing through the other two odors. At least the room is empty. Passing through it, table after table he freezes instantly when hearing a cough.

Looking around the dark room he called out. "Hello?"

There is no answer, only silence. Figuring he'd been hearing things Mello takes a step forward only to be met with a rustling sound, similar to clothes shifting on a body. Someone has to be in here.

"If someone else is here, you don't have to be afraid.... I'm normal, just like you." He looks around for where the shuffling is heard. "We can help each other out." Even as he spoke he knew it was pointless, whomever it was wasn't going to come out, not for him. He'd better just get back to what he was doing. Walking toward the kitchen he jerked back on reflex- much like he had with the nurse in the hall. It wasn't because anything had touched him, it was more because of what he saw up ahead of him. A bright luminous light, almost like lightning bottled in a room. Curiosity won over self preservation and Mello bolted through the double doors to the kitchen to catch the cause of the lightning storm. "Hey!" He called out when seeing a blip of white dash off behind a wrack of pots and pans.

Whatever had ran from him was white all over, small too. And unless he's seeing things in the dark it looked like it had a mop of white hair on top of its head. It couldn't be due to lighting since the room, minus his penlight, is almost blackened over. There! Mello followed suit but once again got knocked on his ass by the strangeness of this place. The ghostly white figure went right through a wall and disappeared! Of course it did. It wouldn't be a ghost otherwise, worser still, Mello wouldn't be fully hallucinating if the child couldn't go through walls to give him the slip. Not to mention, he still can't see out of his left eye. His vision in it burned away by the fire in Matt's apartment. He looks over his shoulder when hearing another sound of movement. Someone's coming. Unsure why, he ducks down behind the island in the center of the kitchen killing his penlight- just incase. A large 300 something pound man dressed in a cruddy white undershirt and black slacks came bustling through the kitchen along the otherside of the island counter with a large silver bot in his hands. The stink in the air kicked up ten fold and Mello had to gag just to keep from throwing up outright. But he has an advantage again, the fat man had come from a storage room in back where they might keep the cleaning supplies. Creeping along being as silent as possible, he's practically crawling to the single swinging door.

He didn't turn on the light until his fingers brushed a shelf. He had to make this quick. 'Come on.... come on.' He orders the fluids. 'Damn this world for going green.' He looks over his shoulder at another shelf. Maybe he can find some cooking sherry and make a molotov cocktail. It was a thought. None of these bottles read: flamable.

So focused on what he's doing Mello missed it when the door swung open allowing the large meaty chef inside the box of a room with him. The dazed chef makes his way over to the intruder, for a big man he's damn near silent while padding over.

Index finger skooching over this bottle and that, Mello had to put the light in his mouth just to get better access and work quicker. 'Finally! Found it.' He declared with a smile over the bite of pen. Lifting the bottle from the shelf, he stands just as he turns to leave and smacks right into the messy aproned chest of the other-worldly chef.

Efficiantly spooked Mello repositions the knife in his hand so that the length of the blade is along his forearm and aimed at himself but it served to help him cut into the man's chest just by throwing a punch. The slice burst open with a wide spray of blood splashing over Mello's face and coating his blond hair a fiery red in front. The chef groaned and beat at his chest as though he had bad indigestion. Mello staggered backwards taking the time he had to wipe the blood from his one good eye. He winked it open when something wet and thick hit the floor. It wormed and twisted as if it were in pain, but it remained alive. With a better view from the light still in his mouth, he can make out what looks like... a roach, maybe?

"Oh!" He's bum-rushed and grabbed up by the throat, pinned against a shelf of food stuffs.

The chef has his neck held so tightly he can't breath and he's gasping for oxygen with little success of relief. His feet flail and kick when the man lifts him from the ground to groan in his face. Mello could feel his hot breath like a plaster mold. As if that weren't bad enough his vision is darkening; peeks of the chef's ravaged and partially removed face blink in and out of his view. His view! Lifting the knife, on little strength, he intends to drag the blade across the chef's eyes but his muscles spaz out and he falls limp in his attackers grasp; the knife fell to the floor. At least he thought it would hit the floor, the zombie-like human caught the knife before it could fall completely. As if the knife were the better option the chef's grip around his throat slackened, and Mello took in a loud sharp drag of air. It almost sounded as if he were impersonating the murderous creatures air came in so hard. He coughed and choked from the sudden rush of relief, but his break didn't last very long when the knife was coming up at him intending to slice open his stomach as he'd sliced open the man's chest.

Mello's right leg kicked out catching the offending arm to knock it out of the way, and with his leg he pinned the chef's left arm against the wall by the wrist. He used all of his semi-returned strength to keep it pinned there. The chef seemed game at the new battle strategy and in one deft movement he went from clamping onto Mello's neck to gripping him by the stomach in some sick wrestlers gut-wrenching hold. Mello was sure anyone who so much as crossed the street from the hospital heard his scream when those broken, black fingernails bit into his skin to keep the painful grip. The fat fuck had the gaul to actually clench and unclench his hand as if he were a dog taking a bite out of some ground meat, or if Matt were giving the description one of those chomp chains in his Super Mario games. Mello could taste his lunch in the back of his throat. Mello's thoughts spun as he tried to think of a way to save himself from being pulled inside out.

Letting go of the chef's wrist, his hands were working on autopilot to remedy the assualt on his gut, he instead gropes around at the metal shelf behind him when numb fingers come across a glass bottle. "Here!" He smashes the glass bottle in the man's face. The shards dug into the chef's already fucked up face and the damaged seemed done, but the man still had fight in him and took that moment to toss Mello into the corner opposite where his right arm was pinned. The blond's ears are ringing from the impact with the wall and his hand goes up to rest upon his ear that may or may not be where the drips of blood are coming from. Then again it was all over his face, and he jerked his hand through his bleeding bangs pulling them and the chef's blood from his face. He was sure he looked positively mad, all bloody and beaten, his teal eyes frantically flickering back and forth in the room for something to kill with. Setting a hand down on the floor to help push himself to his feet, he split his palm open on a stray shard of glass. Something about his bleeding palm gave him an idea.

Crawling off to the shelf he was just pinned to, he located that sherry and took a big swig. When the oversized meat suit came at him he sucked in a breath and with lighter in hand flame flicked to life, he spit the sherry into the air and watched with panic glee that it had worked. A cloud of flames reached hungrily out at the chef engulfing him like dry autumn leaves. The man dropped to his knees before Mello, lit up like the sun and moaning and screaming away. Mello could only watch as the skinny almost hallway like pantry's exit was blocked off from him. He's pinned, and if the man fall's forward in this tiny little space, he's thoroughly fucked. He'd been smacking at his own mouth to put out the flames that licked the alcohol on his lips and breath. It burned like a bitch and the roof of his mouth would suffer dearly for it. No sense in babying himself now, he's already so worse for wear. Standing on shaking legs, he kicks the chef onto his back hurrying over the inferno of a body to the exit. He only stilled his flee for a moment when his legs threatened to give out on him, he rest against the doorframe panting. Exiting the kitchen with neither chemical or knife, Mello staggered through the kitchen and cafeteria. It was strange because right as he'd opened the door to enter the hall he saw that bright light again. Where the hell was it coming from, moreso, who was the person creating it? Hadn't Matt said something about aliens during the town tour.

Whatever that light was, the doctors were nowhere in sight. Not even in sound. Mello held a loose grin as he walked to the exit. His insides felt like shit, his muscles ached. Well, if you're gonna crash out, might as well do it in a hospital. He chuckled through a ragged breath when pushing open the double doors to the front desk area.

'I'm so close...' He trudges for the door, hand extended. That's when he felt something moving on him. It slithered and ran at the same time, it was aiming for the slice on his palm it seemed, and he watched frightened and helpless as the thing from the floor exited his shirt sleeve and slid inside his hand. 'No, no no no no no!' Without thinking his fingers reached desperately into the slice in his hand, the pinch just barely catching the creature as it worked its way around bone to gain access further inside of him. But he already felt it and dropped to the floor as the thing traveled to his chest via arm. His blood caught fire and his motor skills betrayed him along with it. He smashed his head into the large oak receptions desk, over and over until he could actually feel his skull splinter and crack beneath his skin. That was it. Dead. Gone.........

"Wakey, wakey." A scratchy voice called from somewhere before him, he can feel a hand smacking against his cheek.

"Mmm?" Intoned the blond who believed that he was on the otherside by now.

"Come on, open those delicious looking eyes." Said the voice.

Blurry eyes open to a slit and spy a large black and white firgure standing before him. Mello didn't let it go that he can see out of his left eye- just a bit. What is going on? More importantly, what happened? Hadn't he beaten himself to death just moments ago? Is he dead now? Looking around the room, his vision's slowly clearing up a bit more and he takes it in that he's no longer at the hospitals front desk, but rather in the hospital's morgue. After his location is confirmed he sees what it was that had been speaking to him. It looked like... honestly. It looked like one of the shinigami's on the lighters they sell in stores. They're a popular item actually. He must be dreaming then if he's seeing one now.

"I don't normally do this." Said the hallucination. "But watching you has gotten... interesting." He laughs to himself, the feathers on the collar of his shirt ruffle up and down with the movement of his full bodied show of joy. "Its always a sight to see when humans come to this place, moreso when they end up falling for one of the others."

Mello glared, he didn't miss the fact that this spikey haired, leather clad, demon must be refering to Matt and himself.

"Your friend is gonna be alright no matter what happens to him, which is more than I can say for you if you stick around." It grinned its toothy fangs Mello's way. "Give it up, huh? Or give in. All that running around is gonna make you chewy come meal time, not to mention get the attention of that guy, and that's the last thing I want." When the reaper leaned in Mello squirmed against the wall.

"Stay back!"

"Back? You think that makes a difference, huh? Hyuk hyuk." It laughed. "I'll send you back, but you better do as I say... or the next one on the slab will be you." He jerked one of the long tables from the wall of doors just before he vanished.

"Wait!? What are you saying?!" He called out to the dissipating form. Getting up from the floor, Mello heads over to the slab, slowly. His breathing is ragged becoming more frantic when he notices right away a crop of red hair laying on the cold metal bed. "Ma-.."

But a loud siren cried out just then, so loud your eardrums would bleed instantly had he covered his ears. Everything went fuzzy... no, not fuzzy everything began to sizzle and disappear just as the shinigami had.

...................

Mello woke up with a pain in his head the size of the grand canyon. He cracked his eyes open and looked about the living room, the very living room that he'd disappeared from only two hours ago- maybe less, maybe more. Nothing was different, nothing had changed on this end. So he had been dreaming, but then where was Matt? That reaper said that Matt was going to be fine. Did he mean it? Hn. Kind of strange to want Matt alive and well so much that he'd even consider the hallucination a viable sorce of information. But dammit. Getting up from the couch he heads for the door. Matt said he lives in Old Town, he may be there right now. He has to find out. Crossing the room, he picked up his pace when he heard noises behind him.

"Hey! Hey! Where are you going now?"

Mello was spun around and slammed into the front door of the apartment. Ready to fight, he paused when seeing who it was that had shoved him. "Matt." And boy did he sound relieved when he said it. His posture visibly relaxed into that of a noodle and he threw his arms around the red head. Smiling all the more when Matt snickered.

"No shit." He said as if they'd been in a conversation only a second ago. He chuckled when his comment was met with silence and a tighter grip. "Squeeze me all you like, but watch your arm."

"My arm?" Mello questions while doing as Matt said by squeezing him all that he liked, twisting them within the embrace.

"Joking aside, Freddy Krueger did a number on you while you slept." Tugging up Mello's shirt he showed his lover the bandages he'd placed on him a little while ago. He'd just been in the kitchen cleaning his hands from the blood that oozed out of Mello's arm. "You feeling alright?" He asked staring into the male's eyes, his concern in full show on his face.

"Yeah... you said I've been cut?" He exams his person, then stomps off to the bedroom to get a better look in the bathroom mirror.

Sure enough Mello was bandaged up but 'did a number on' didn't seem to cover it. He has bruises on his torso, a vivid flash of that fat chef's meaty paws digging into him came back. The slice down his arm that the nurse made bled through the bandage. How was this possible? Winking his right eye, he notices he can see perfectly from his left eye. It seems that 'how was this possible' is the sentence of the day because he wound up asking himself the question thirty times over as he walked slowly from the bathroom to take a seat on the cushy bed.

Head cocked in thought as Matt watched the blond move about the room like a lost child waiting for his parents to come get him from school, he supposed Mello would be the kid pacing the sidewalk that peered into the parking lot hoping the next car in would be for him. He would never be the kid waiting inside, peanut better and jelly sandwich in his hands and a mindful teacher watching and waiting with him. Before video games came into his love-life, Matt had always settled with playing toys. They never spoke or interacted with each other, they just moved through a world that he'd created trying to get to the next one. And boy has he ever had a lot of time doing that. Go be raised by an elderly person and see how often they remember to pick you up, or wake up from a 'light snooze'. Good thing he was independent enough to just tell the teacher that he'd walk home.

"Mell', you don't look so good." Matt walked over to him, resting a hand on the blond's shoulder. "You should get some sleep. I'll sleep too, maybe we can share a dream?" He teased when taking a seat beside his lover.

"I'm not tired." He lied. But not entirely. He really isn't tired, but his body is exhausted. Big difference.

"Cocoa?" Matt offered.

Mello fixed Matt with a gaze of accusation. "Noo." He said and smiled. His mother had always put his restless mind to bed with a cup of cocoa. One sip of the good stuff and he'd be out in minutes. He honestly never wanted to sleep again. Not after that dream or nightmare rather. Very real nightmare. "No. I don't wanna sleep anymore. What time is it?" He decided to change subjects before Matt could further insist that he needed bed rest.

"It's 11:47."

That seemed to smack Mello in the face. In the dream only what? An hour passed. But its that late?! They'd only met each other for lunch and its now nearly midnight? At risk of sounding like a broken record, How was that possible!?

"Nothing's open but the clubs. So, unless you wanna dance like there's no tomorrow, we could....." Matt trailed off.

...............

Gun controllers in hand, Wii set up and running; the two indulge theirselves in a friendly competition of Resident Evil Chronicals. Whomever got the better score got a reward, there were no lines drawn about what the reward was but both could guess that it would dabble within the sexual relm. Matt was still uncertain over what had prompted the bizarre behavior in Mello but he wasn't gonna ask. Like he's said, newcomers to this town don't last long. They either lose their sanity or disappear altogether.

Glancing at Mello who seemed hard pressed to keep popping off zombie heads, Matt asked casually. "So, do I get to know what you were dreaming about? Or am I supposed to guess?"

Mello's aim missed at that moment and he instead plugged the offending zombie in the groin.

"I'm guessing, you dreamt that you were asleep and he came up through the mattress."

Shooting Matt a glance, his face read that he didn't have a clue what the read head was talking about.

"And did he say his catch phrase? You've lived too long and now you must-..."

Cutting him off Mello snipped out. "If I tell you, will you shut up?"

"I might." He continued playing the game, popping zombie heads all the while keeping his gaze on Mello. Show off.

Pausing the game, Mello lowered his gun controller to his lap. "It wasn't Freddy whoever, it was just a bad dream. And frankly, I don't wanna talk about it, so." And he let it end there. But the 'leave it alone' was blantant.

With a defeated shrug, Matt went back to the game. But he still had questions because it was weird. People don't just fall asleep and get their arm butchered. The bruises on his stomach... he's only really seen Mello naked a time or two, the guy could be a needler- he used to be- he knows the tell tale sign of purpling in the area that's over-used. Hell, if he didn't get hooked on White Claudia he might still be doing it.

"Scores coming up." Mello announced.

The two watched the screen offer up their scores from critical kills to items found, damage done and in the end Matt came out the victor. And boy was he about to gloat as he turned a victorious grin at his friend.

"You of course know," And this was Mello. "I was only kidding when I got into this little death match with you."

"Said the loser who wants to back out of a bet."

"I'm not a loser if there's no competition." He stands. "And weren't you offering me cocoa a while ago?" He tried changing subject.

Rolling his eyes, Matt stands. "Fine, I'll make you cocoa, but I want my reward for completely smoking you."

Scoffing, Mello said to Matt's retreating back. "Who makes bets with someone that's never played a game before?"

"I do. Its how I make my drug money."

Matt's infectious laugh filled the kitchen area. Mello shook his head and for some reason picked up Matt's controller as if it might be a special make and the gamer set him up to lose. "So what's my punishment? I have to tell you my hopes, dreams, and greatest fears?"

"No. I want something a little more heathly than inner revelations."

"Such as?" Mello asks while cleaning up the game.

....................

Mello arched from the bed as Matt drove into him over and over, the steady pounding slapped their sweat sticky skin together, and the bed creaked its agony for mercy, fearing that its post would splinter beneath them.

'Fall in love...' Mello thought during a rather ravanous kiss. 'Am I in love with Matt?' His hands squeeze the red heads hips as he pulls him in closer to him and deeper inside of him. 'That reaper seemed to think so. Not only that but he said that Matt would be fine but not me... Am I gonna die here? Fall asleep and end up dreaming myself to death?'

Mello's body lifts from the bed so that he's now seated upon Matt's lap, the blond's knees are hiked up to rest on his lover's shoulders and with Mello's hands gripped firmly against Matt's knees and the red head's hands on his hips to guide him up and down, they both moaned at the liquid fire licking at their insides from the change in position. There seemed to be only one solution to the problem. Never fall asleep again. How hard could it be?

& & & & &

Mello's eyes shot open when a horn honked from a car sitting at a stand still behind him. He hadn't been asleep at the wheels for longer than three minutes and he already felt the effects of that nightmare relm scraping at his sanity. It was weird too, he'd been dreaming that he was doing his job- as he is now- then BAM he's being chased down by these crispy mutts from Hell. Shaking off the sleepy effects he puts the garbage truck into gear, flips off the driver behind him then heads up the street to the next house.

And that was just the next day. By the time Christmas rolled around Mello was a basket case. Sleeping in intervals, waiting around at Matt's house practically glueing them together surgically to ensure that the male didn't vanish on him whenever he let his guard down for a brief cat nap. And by brief he meant it. 3 minutes worth of sleep seemed all he could have, any longer than that and he woke up with a few new bruises.

January came and he was free of his injured ribs with a clean bill of health given to him by the only sane person in that hospital, Lisa Garland. She said he looked like shit. He knew. And damn it if lack of proper sleep wasn't making him somewhat bat-shit crazy. Some days he walked around irritable, chewing off anyone's head over anything, other days he'd continually look over his shoulder believing that the nightmares had escaped his head and were now roaming free on the streets, in his bedroom, and home. And when the panic was truly too great, he'd simply return to his apartment back in his own city. It was like Heaven there, no fears, no pains. He could fall asleep and stay asleep with no nightmares.

February was strange. People were disappearing. A man who owned a convenience store, new place, grand opening, just disappeared after only two weeks of having his business opened. A man who frequented a bar he and Matt went to never came back after a certain point. That was not a big deal but damn if it wasn't strange. There was a trail on television, an old one, the one Matt had told him about during the tour with this Beyond Birthday. Mello would swear his eyes would fall from his head and hit the floor because that was exactly who he'd seen out in the woods when he'd first arrived. So he wasn't in jail after all? Freaky thought. Good thing he never had any reason to walk around the forest alone. He always seemed fine enough when Matt was around him. But he couldn't stay around the red head forever, he's not a psycho.

March was ok. There were few problems inbetween, he'd had one incident though where he fell asleep in the shower and the things he saw... chilling. He'd almost drowned in this black mystery fluid coming from the faucets on never ending degrees. He'd remained up by holding a flash light in his hands flicking the spray of light off and on in his eyes, muttering under his breath. "I'm not tired. I'm not tired." Matt began to think he was suicidal! He didn't trust that he could be left alone and so he stayed over at his place in Old Town and that's where he met someone alike to himself.... Light Yagami.
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