A/N

LAST CHAPTER ALERT! I love them so much…but I can't keep this plot forever. Besides, I can't bring myself to write what happens next…we all know it anyways. I'll hopefully start to work on a new MelloxMatt soon…

For the longest time (okay like a week) I had no idea how to end this. Then, when I wasn't thinking about Matt or Mello or Death Note at all (yes, there are those times, though they're rare xD) I was listening to my iPod on shuffle, and the song "The Rescue" by American Hi-Fi came on. It used to be one of my favorite songs, but I hadn't heard it in months. And then…I realized that it fit this story way too much to not include. I hope you think it fits too! And seriously, it's a great song (though I don't take any credit for it) – I highly recommend it! Oh, and please don't skim the song lyrics in this chapter like I sometimes do when there are lyrics in fics xx;; because I think it works so well!

Erm…one line was stolen from Brokeback Mountain….ugh sorry, it just seemed to go so perfectly!

Oh yeah, and just like in my other Mello and Matt fic…Wammy's is near a forest. …It just fits ok?! xD

Please let me know what you think of the ending!

If I owned Matt, Mello or Death Note, L and Light's tennis match would have gone on a hell of a lot longer.

I wish we could go back.

To the beginning

Cuz there's something missing

From your eyes.

Music was playing in Matt's head. A song he had head a long time ago, a song that used to make him and Mello laugh, because of course flying was the silliest superpower. Wait…what the fuck. Where did thoughts about flying come from?

We lost a lifetime

When you disappeared

The music wouldn't stop playing, and neither would the memories that currently glided through Matt's head. Him and Mello playing video games and sharing chocolate. Him and Mello cutting class to build their tree house, just on the outskirts of the woods by Wammy's. Mello yelling at Matt for getting them into trouble on the rare occasions they got caught, even though it was always Mello's idea in the first place. Mello laughing afterwards, to show Matt that he was never really mad. Mello devouring textbooks before tests, to make up for the cut classes and beat Near on every exam. And those nights they spent, lying on their beds, talking about what it would be like to be the next L. What they would be like 10 years in the future.

Funny—those conversations about the future. Sometimes Mello would be the president, and Matt would be his Secretary of Defense, and they would wipe out crime. Sometimes Mello would be the head of the CIA, and Matt would be the top spy. But no matter what, they were always together. It just never occurred to them that there could be any other way.

And now I am crawling

Back to you.

Well, Mello hadn't exactly crawled. But the music was making Matt's semiconscious mind wake up enough to realize most of his pain had gone. With this realization came the rush of memories more recent than hot summer evenings long years ago. Last night…he had fallen asleep before Mello had answered him…

Matt shot up in bed.

"Mello?" He could hear the desperation shattering his voice as he waited for the response he knew wasn't coming.

"Mello?" He tried again, louder now. Every time the word escaped his lips, he knew he was setting himself up for a higher plummet when the answer wouldn't come.

"Mello." This time it wasn't a question. He was alone, with only the stupid radio playing.

Wait.

The radio hadn't been on in years – Mello had said it distracted him from the case (that fucking case ruins everything) – but now it was playing, very loudly.

Matt crawled over to the edge of the bed. The song was actually a CD, the same one they had listened to when they were much younger. Someone had dug it up from the piles of crap in the closet that had an unwritten label on the door saying "THE PAST—ENTER AND YOU'RE DOOMED TO REPEAT IT" and placed in the obsolete radio on the bedside table. Of course, it had been Mello who put it there, and set it to "repeat song". But why?

"Why didn't he just give me an answer, or at least leave me a goddamn note?!" Yeah, Matt knew he was talking to himself. He also knew that the corners of his eyes were burning with tears. "What the fuck…I haven't cried in a decade, and now it's twice in 24 hours?!" He slumped down into Mello's bed, hugging his comforter-wrapped knees and smelling chocolate and…God, there was no other word for it. Smelling chocolate and Mello, just Mello. It smelled so good that he hated how his tears were getting all over the damn sheets.

That wretched song was still playing, filling the empty room with words that meant nothing now.

"Why the HELL did you turn on the radio, Mello?" Matt moaned into his knees. He had never felt so alone. And even if Mello did come back, which he doubted, there was no way he'd tell Matt where he had been, or why he had left. He probably wouldn't quit the case.

"And why did I say that…this is all my fault…why did I have to break down…"

What hurt the most though, is that he wouldn't tell Matt WHY he was killing himself over Kira. And if he did give a reason, it would probably be a lie.

Summer's the season

But you're cold and freezing

If there's a reason

It's a lie.

Matt's head shot up. Huh. What a coincidence. Maybe that's why Mello put on the song – to taunt him. Mello was always good at predicting other people's moves, getting in their heads.

Matt sighed. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know why Mello had left him. And he didn't know what to do now that he was on his own.

He didn't want to eat.

He didn't want to turn off the radio.

He didn't want to move.

He didn't want to smoke.

He just sat on Mello's bed, breathing in memories, listening to lost syllables, crying regret.

How long did he stay like that?

Who cares.

He didn't.

He just squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears stain Mello's sheets.

After a while, the words started to be words again, instead of meaningless sounds. And he cried even harder, hating himself for it since he knew Mello despised crying, because he was starting to figure out why Mello had set the song. The chorus rang through his ears.

I wish I could fly

There it was, that stupid flying thing.

I know I could save us somehow.

You thought you were safe and sound

But you need a hero now.

You've gotta believe

Even with broken wings

I've come to your rescue

And you can't rescue me.

The last three lines made Matt's cigarette-weakened lungs almost stop functioning. The fallen angel was still trying to save the world. At any cost.

The wind screamed, the snow wept, his legs cramped, his thumb itched -- but Matt didn't move. He couldn't.

BANG!

The front door thrashed open. Cold air flooded the room, but Matt didn't move – this was a dream, nothing more. Or maybe he had starved to death.

Bang!thumpthumpthumpthumpswishweakchucklecreak.

If this was still real life, those would have been the door closing, footsteps, the sound of a coat being tossed onto the floor, Mello laughing as he saw Matt in what was essential a fetal position, and the bed protesting as Mello sat down on it. But Matt didn't want to hope.

"Yeah, it's me."

The song was still looping, but that was unmistakably Mello's voice.

And now I am crawling

Back to you.

It was also unmistakably Mello's hand forcing Matt's head up, so he had to look at the unguarded eyes staring at him.

"Matt. I'm s-so sorry." Mello's voice actually broke.

Matt felt his face spreading into a grin.

"Oh, God! Don't be sorry," he said, flinging his arms around Mello, "it's okay, it's all okay now that you're back!" He could feel Mello's form tense beneath his embrace.

"No. You don't understand. I-I shouldn't have come back."

Matt pulled away, though still grasping his shoulders firmly, still beaming through his blotchy face.

"Of course you should have! Look, I'm really sorry I got all emotional last ni--"

"NO!" Mello shouted. Matt flinched. "No, no, no, NO! You shouldn't be apologizing! Stop it! I left for your own damn good, and I only came back because I'm too fucking weak to do this alone!" Those couldn't be tears blossoming in the corners of MELLO'S eyes – right?

"W-what do you mean?" Confusion tilted Matt's head to one side, making Mello flush an odd shade of crimson.

"Don't do that. Don't make this harder for me." Mello took a deep breath. "What you asked me to do…last night. I can't do it. I've already figured out how to capture Kira, you see."

"That's fantastic!" Matt interjected with a grin. Mello looked away.

"No. To catch him…there's a 99.99 chance that I will die. In fact, I'm getting pretty sure that my death is the only way."

I've come to your rescue

And you

can't

rescue

me.

Those goddamn tears were starting up again, sliding down Matt's cheek, but he didn't feel them.

"There has to be another way."

Mello gave a wry little laugh.

"You think I didn't try and think of every other possible way this could end, all those hours when you were lying there in withdrawal? I don't want to d-die." He shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them, they were oozing intensity that Matt had never seen before. "But if my death can save others, I'll do it."

"B-but….but…"

"That's why I wanted to leave, Matt. I don't want you to get wrapped up in this." He raised his hand, as if to rub Matt on the shoulder or something, but then seemed to think better of it and laid his hand back on his knee. "I don't want you to get hurt," he said softly. "But…goddamn you, Matt!" There was that dry smile… "I just can't seem to quit you! I can't do this alone. And when I saw you all weak like that, it got me worried – and not just cuz I was worried about you! I didn't know how I could go through this by myself…I don't' even think I could."

When did I lose you?

I need you to pull through.

It was Matt's turn to give a tearstained smile. Even now he noticed that the snow had formed a new halo around Mello's head. He reached up and brushed some of it off. They weren't just angels anymore. They were martyrs.

He leaned over and embraced Mello once again, feeling his cool skin relax beneath Matt's regained strength.

The weight of the world never felt so alive.

"No matter what," he whispered, feeling his own salty tears drip onto his smiling mouth, "I will always be with you."

They both knew why the song was playing now. It was singing their story, though it wasn't clear who was really talking about whom. It didn't matter. They had saved each other. They had lived together. And they knew in their hearts, which beat against each other, that they would die together. Neither could live without the other.

That's what happens when you're addicted.