Author's Note: This is a plot that Kiogy came up with, but I offered to write it out for him. The theme is raw and brutal, so if you have a weak stomach or you can't read strong stuff, please turn back. There is going to be a lot of abuse both psychological and physical and don't expect much if any fluff. Also note that there will be smut written. This story will be following manga canon and the only difference is that Matt and Mello live. Thanks for letting me write this, Kiogy! For anyone who has not turned back by now, please enjoy the read. I really would appreciate some reviews so that I can gauge how the next chapter should go.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters. All I own is the plot of this story.

It was crazy, ludicrous, impossible. Who were we to think that we could challenge a god directly and escape with our lives, that we could outsmart the almighty Kira? We were nothing more than the rejects from the distinguished Wammy House, two reckless mavericks. We were nothing, yet we were going to do it anyway.

I'd be lying if I said that we weren't scared. For fuck's sake our plan was so outlandish, so improbable! There were far too many things that could go wrong. To be honest, there was more that could go wrong than there was that could go right! However, even with all that knowledge, we were still going forward with it. Mello did it because he had something to prove and nothing to lose, and I did it because I didn't have a choice. Mello had wanted to do this by himself, but the both of us knew that he couldn't do it without me. No, it wasn't because I was an irreplaceable partner or anything stupid like that. It was because no one else was idiotic enough to partake of a plan with a 98% chance of failure and no reward if the plan was a success.

Why would I do it then? It would've been super easy to just walk away and never look back. Hell, Mello would've probably handed me the damn keys to his in-case-of-an-emergency bike and said nothing if I left. The truth was, that doing something like that would've been easy for a normal sane person, and I was neither of those. I was nothing more than Mello's much loved dog.

By "loved" I mean that I was worth just enough to lick those brand name alligator-skin boots clean. Not many made it up that far on his "to not beat shitless" list, and only L had ever gotten any higher than that. Yeah, it felt awesome to have him at least think before he stepped all over me.

With those warm fuzzy feelings pushing me on, I sat back in the beat up red car that would be my partner in crime tonight, and sucked heavily on my cigarette. It was my 55th cig of the day, but that didn't bother me much. After all, the cancer couldn't kill me before this shitty plan did. If, by some miracle, I didn't die today I'm sure that I'd get killed doing something else reckless for Mello (not that I wanted to, mind you, I wanted a nice quiet life). Two and a fucking half packs of cigarettes was actually pretty good considering how stressed I was.

Tossing the filter to the cooling asphalt I looked around at my filthy surroundings. It was pathetic, really, if I would just be honest with my damn self. I had lived 20 short years and with my genius mind this was the best that I could do? I was a top class hacker and a fucking god of anything electronical and I didn't even have my own bed! I slept on a couch or motherfucking floor and ate nothing but ten cent noodles!

My leather clad fingers clenched the steering wheel tight enough to make the material creak. Each harsh breath from my abused lungs echoed loudly in my ears making my heart beat faster and faster. Painfully ripping the goggles off my head, my left hand then covered my eyes in an effort to keep the tears from falling. I didn't want to die, I was so fucking scared! I was supposed to be just beginning my life and here I was rushing myself to a painful and sudden end. Why? Why?!

Behind my darkened eyelids I could see a memory reeling across like an old film. A surreal glow encased the image and my body shuddered hard as I expelled a long shaky breath. I saw that shimmering blond hair being tenderly caressed by the gentle summer breeze. The sun was bright enough to hurt my sensitive eyes, but back then I couldn't tear my watering eyes away from the beautiful scene. Tears of happiness streaked down my cheeks, mingling with the tears of fear and grief. There he was, my angel, my reason for living, my deadly addiction. The cancer undoubtedly blooming in my lungs and the drugs running through my veins were nothing compared to the side effects of worshipping Mello, my sweet Mello.

Bony fingers clenched the hair from the back of my head painfully and yanked my head back, effectively jerking me out of my reverie. That beautiful flash of golden hair made my heart flutter before the piercing glare of turquoise eyes made the poor organ drop to my stomach. The fist in my hair tightened making me gasp out in pain.

"Were you crying?" he hissed, tugging my hair to make a point.

"N-no," I stuttered, feeling helpless under that gaze.

Yanking my hair painfully, he forced me to get out of the car through the window before slamming me up against the worn vehicle.

"Don't you dare!" he screeched giving me a hard shake. "Don't you fucking dare!"

There all kinds of emotions bubbling over in his eyes and it was absolutely breath taking. The Mello of these past few months, even years, had always shut himself completely up. He refused to give anyone the pleasure of reading him of seeing him behave even remotely human. However, on the eve of our destruction, even he could not hide his humanity, his weakness. He was just as scared as I was no matter how much he desperately wanted to hide it.

"Dare what?" I mumbled, hoping that he wouldn't turn his fear into aggressiveness. I really didn't want the last moments of my life to be spent getting the shit kicked out of me.

"Don't show me that you're scared," he hissed before plunging his sweet and hot tongue into my mouth.

There was nothing tender as he brutally raped my mouth and like the bitch I was, all I could do was moan and open wider. It was likely that I was going to have a bald spot where he was tugging all of my dark hair out, but that pain couldn't override the mind-numbing feeling of him against me, his mouth tearing into mine.

Even as I tasted blood, my hands dared to gently touch his jutting hips. Shuddering helplessly at his ministrations, I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and prayed that this wasn't a dream. The sharp burn at the back of my head was enough to prove that this was anything but that.

"Don't. Fucking. Show. Me."

His gasps and the sound of our lips mashing together broke apart his words and my overwhelmed mind could barely understand what he was trying to say.

"You're not scared!" he shouted desperately as he shoved me into the car again, this time making me bite my tongue from the impact. "I am not scared!"

The sound of warm leather smacking flesh echoed in the alley as he slapped me. Grabbing my shoulders, he spun me around and bent me over the car door. The partially jutted out window dug painfully into my torso, reminding me of how human I was, how alive I still was, even as he forced my jeans down. That warm leather clenched my hips painfully as he forced himself into my body. My scream echoed mockingly against the cold walls and I dug my fingers into the cheap plastic shit covering the inside of the door.

"I'm n-not scared!" I gasped as he continued to thrust inside of me. "Oh gods, Mello! Not scared!"

I could hear his sobbing from behind me, but a firm grip on the back of my neck made sure that I couldn't turn to see him or comfort him. We were both past the threshold of sanity and no amount of comfort could help now. My stiff cock was mercilessly rubbed up against the rusty metal of the door with each and every thrust and I begged for more. All of it, the pain, the fear, the pleasure, was merged into a blur of feeling. It was proof that we were both alive and we were doing our fucking best to soak it all in.

Like the pathetic creature I was, I cried as an orgasm racked my body. Hot fluids coated inside of me before Mello pulled away with a squelching sound. Our sobbing and gasping rang in my ears loudly as I collapsed to my knees. My own cum slid soundlessly down the car door and over my hand as I used the vehicle as a support to keep from completely falling over.


The word was whispered so softly, so uncertainly, as if my god couldn't utter it without permission. With my bruised and tear streaked face, I turned to look at the only perfect being on this planet. He was standing on shaky legs and his wide eyes stared down at me, the terror all too evident. His trembling lip still carried a smear of my blood.

"We need to get going," I choked. "We need to…to finish this." Clenching my fist painfully tight, I forced a wretched smile on to my face. "See you at the rendezvous."

Looking down, Mello nodded. There was no more time to doubt and to sit around in agony. It was show time for the both of us. Our final performance no matter what happened. Near would win and Kira would be brought down. Funny how my fear seemed to fade into nothing as I forced myself to stand and pulled up my pants. The semen slid down my legs uncomfortably but I didn't do anything about it. Instead, I stepped closer to Mello and planted a soft kiss against his lips.

"Good luck," he breathed against my broken lips, and then we parted like nothing more than a whisper of darkness.


My tires screeched in protest as I forced my way into another sharp turn. The bodyguards weren't too far behind me, but I still had to carry out the plan. Briefly, the thought of just ignoring my only escape route flitted across my mind, but I pushed that to the side. I still had the desire to live, and just because I was cutting it a little close didn't mean that I would just give up.

Inhaling some more smoke from a new cigarette, I jerked the car into an alley that had been prepared beforehand. Slamming on the breaks, I stumbled out of the car before it even fully finished moving. A guy leaning against the alley wall raised an eyebrow but I pointed at the car with a shaky hand.

"Don't let them catch you," I gasped hurriedly.

"Sheesh, I am a pro," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "Just wish you didn't make me wear these ugly clothes."

Pulling off my goggles, I handed them to him to complete his disguise. The striped shirt didn't seem to settle well on his body and he blew at the furred vest in annoyance.

"Get going!" I commanded as the sounds of screeching tires drew nearer.

I didn't have to repeat myself as my body double hopped into the junker and took off in a blur of back lights. Ducking behind the dumpster, I held my breath as the sound of cars rushed by. One of the black cars scraped against the dumpster, knocking the heavy thing into me. Clamping my hands over my mouth, I stifled the scream of pain from broken ribs and maybe a fractured arm, and I crouched down to avoid being seen. This was the last motherfucking time I hide behind a two ton dumpster.

Even after the sound of cars passing by ended, I was still too scared to move. There could still be others, I reasoned. The cold air nipped mercilessly at my face and even penetrated my clothes. After what could have only been hours, I peeked around the trash that I was hiding behind. There was nothing but the normal traffic rushing by. Still nervous, I continued to wait as I watched for any sign of people ready to ambush me. It's not like this wasn't the first time something like that had happened to me.

It took nearly another hour of crouching in the cold, watching the alley and streets, before I stiffly stood up and swapped into the spare clothes that I had prepared. It was difficult to strip out of my comfortably fit clothing in the cold, especially with the broken ribs, but I forced all thoughts of discomfort out of my mind. Instead, my thoughts were all on Mello. His part of the plan was nearing its end, if not already over. The bright orange beanie covered my green tinted hair and the baggy hoodie thankfully covered my gangster baggy pants. The damn things hung nearly completely off my ass and I just couldn't figure out how people did this all the time. The biting cold didn't make the experience any more enjoyable. My clothes were quickly shoved into a trash bag and stuffed in the middle of the dumpster's contents.

With a well practiced slouch and macho gait, I slunked out of the alley and blended in with the steady stream of pedestrians. Keeping my breathing at a steady pace was probably the hardest part of the whole thing for me. A mixture of the physical pain and the paranoia began squeezing my chest painfully, only adding to the difficulty. Still, I pushed on and played my part. Hit on a few hot girls, keep my hands shoved deep into my hoodie's pockets, and make sure that no one got a good look at my face.

On the way to the rendezvous, my eyes caught sight of the news from a television within an old pawn shop. Getting close enough to the window of the store to fog up the glass, I watched in superficial calmness as the images of my body double getting murdered in cold blood flashed over and over. The mindless anchors were commenting on how anyone who opposed Kira deserved that kind of slaughter.

"There's still no news on the young man's identity," the anchorwoman said stoically, "and there's still no reports on Takada's whereabouts. Speculation of a ransom has been going around, but that is unlikely considering that Lord Kira would probably smite down anyone who dared touch his messenger."

It made me sick, all of it. The people on this planet were nothing more than animals, fucking animals. Turning on my heel, I tried to push back the images of the man I hired with hands in the air trying to reason with the body guards. It was lucky that the camera's didn't pick up his voice since I was sure that he was trying to convince them that he wasn't the same guy who helped in the kidnapping. After all, he didn't know anything about our plan. I just hired him to get some people off my tail. He wasn't supposed to die, but inside I knew that he wasn't going to make it. It was him or me, and I chose to send him to the cruel death that was waiting for me. I looked down at my hands, struck by the fact that they weren't literally bloodstained. Murderer, that was all I was. A sick and gifted murderer. But it was all for him.

Getting to the cramped and dirty motel room, I looked around at the empty space and felt my heart drop. He wasn't here yet. Forcing myself to move, I walked over to the television and turned it to the news. I needed to watch even if it made me sick, if just to see if Mello's plan went all the way through.

The meaningless chatter echoed through the room as I sat against the wall nearest the door like the dog I was. I wanted to be as close as possible when he came through this door. Wincing, I slid the needle into my pale arm and released the drugs. A sense of calmness tugged at the edges of my mind as I rested my head against the stained wall, but it wasn't enough for me. Throwing the needle across the room, I glanced at the drawer that I knew had more morphine in it. Even though the temptation was there, I refused to get it. I needed to be aware of my surroundings until Mello got here, and after that we were both going to get shit-faced.

Seeing yourself get murdered over and over again while people cheered it really had a funny way of messing with your mind, especially when one wasn't completely sane. I wanted to cry, but a dark chuckle came out instead. My blue eyes remained unblinkingly at the images flashing across the screen, waiting and waiting.

"Breaking news!"

There it was, the final part of our act. Hazy images of a building completely encased in an inferno. The cross at the top seemed to avoid the flames the longest, as if praying to its god to be spared. Soon, it too was swallowed. The reporter on scene was talking rapidly as the firemen worked to put out the blazing fire. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Near would be able to see Mello's signature on this as he too was undoubtedly watching for news on Takada. Would he realize that he couldn't have gotten his hands on the real killer notebook without this recklessness? As he stared Kira down and brought forth the proof of condemnation, would he even have the decency to thank Mello?

The flames had been fought down to nothing more than struggling embers and the firemen had rushed into the building. It was obvious that no one would have survived that, yet they ran in to find the bodies. Biting my scabbed lip until a fresh trickle of blood seeped down my chin, I waited. Soon a fireman came up to make his little comments.

"Ah, well, we found two bodies in the building. Ms. Takada was obviously one of them and the corpse of the other person was too damaged to get any identification off of. It's presumably the kidnapper…"

Two corpses, this was looking good. Still, Mello might have been too close to the origin of the fire and been blown to pieces. Even more likely was that they just hadn't found his body yet. Still, I clung to my stubborn hope. I wanted him alive to be with me, just like we planned. Unfortunately, it was even more unlikely than my surviving.

Mello's part had consisted of the more dangerous job. He had to kidnap Takada and take her to the shipping company. After stripping her of all her clothing to "ensure" that she didn't have any of the killing paper, he was going to put her clothes on another truck and drive the bitch to the church. Once the vehicle stopped, she was going to write his name, Mihael Keehl, on the paper and kill him with a heart attack. After Kira was contacted by her, he was going to make her set the entire area on fire to kill herself as well as to get rid of any evidence.

The tricky part in all of this was the escaping death part. All of it rested heavily on an aspect that had never been addressed or tested. As a matter of fact, it had slipped past my lips in a jest, but Mello had taken it literally and had put it to the ultimate test.

"Why don't you just change your fucking name?!"

He had his name legally changed to Klavdija, an homage to his past and to his present. Klavdija, literally "lame" in Slovene, his native country. He was broken and could never be repaired so that name did him justice. It wasn't pretty like Mihael, nor did it roll off the tongue in such a delightful manner. It was harsh, a constant reminder of who he had become after the years spent avenging L.

Still, that in itself didn't guarantee that he would live, and in the case that he did live, he needed to make it appear that he had died. Only then would he be freed from the chains of vengeance and superiority. Mello would have given Near the final piece of the puzzle, and no matter what, Near would never be able to repay him. It was a final victory as much as a safety precaution. If everyone believed that we were dead, then there would be no need to hunt us down. We could live together, quietly and happily for the rest of our lives.

Watching the reports about the fire and the "sad" news of Takada's death, I shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Even if changing his name had saved him from the killer notebook, he had to fake his death in front of her until Kira sent her to burn everything up. At that point he had to somehow manage to get out of there without her noticing and replace himself with his own body double. Of course, his body double was some random blond bum that wouldn't be missed even after we killed him. A drug that mimicked a heart attack so that those who did the autopsy could announce C.O.D. as a heart attack, righteous punishment from Kira above.

I shook my head in disbelief. Even now I was wondering at the sanity of the plan. There was just no way that it could have been pulled off, and yet here I was waiting for him. If he didn't show up by tomorrow, then I would just plant a nickel's worth of lead into my skull. He was my only reason for being on this fucking planet and if he wasn't here, then I refused to stay here. Closing my eyes only for a moment I thought back to the brighter and decidedly more pleasurable days spent at Wammy's House.


The clicking sound of a lock being turned made me jerk awake. Glancing around hurriedly, I noticed that it was three in the morning and the news was still going on. Rolling to the side on instinct, I whipped out my gun and pointed it at the door. My heart was beating painfully against my broken ribs and my hands were shakily holding the gun at who could be an attacker. The old door swung open tiredly and the most beautiful thing walked in. Blond singed hair, black leather, alligator-skin boots, all of it.

Dropping the gun carelessly on the ground, I rushed at him and crushed Mello against the wall. I was sobbing uncontrollably on his neck and he softly hugged back. Just like that, with the door still opened to the cold world outside I felt that my heart could be content forever. I would be happy until the end of time with Mello right here besides me. My delicate, broken Mello. I would heal him, I would love him, I would hold him close.

That's what I thought would happen, but I was a selfish human. I couldn't remain happy when I realized that Mello would not care for me the same way I cared for him. I thought that he would hold me at night and that we would spend days enjoying nothing but each other's company, but none of that happened. The days leading up to Near's victory tore at my mind, further shredding what was left of my sanity. Although less harshly, the slaps, kicks, and insults were still there. The sneer was shot half-heartedly at me and those cruel fingers never touched me with love or even care.

At night, he would suffer the night terrors that reminded him of his hazardous life, and I would go into his room to hold him tightly. If he woke up, he would struggle against me until the exhaustion would take him far deeper than I ever would. We should have been fucking happy, and I couldn't understand why we weren't. Kira was going to lose, L would be avenged, and the both of us were alive, free to do whatever we wanted.

It was a clear day when we witnessed the victory of L's true successor from a distance. My gadgets allowed for us to hear what was going on from the safety of a utility truck a quarter of a mile away. Since bugs couldn't be planted at the building ahead of time, I settled for using a high tech parabolic microphone that was able to pick up everything said inside. Everything proceeded just as Mello thought it would and we drove away solemnly after Near's brute announced that Light Yagami was dead. We couldn't hear the Shinigami since we never touched that notebook ourselves, but we didn't need to hear it to fully understand what was going on. Everything was all too clear.

Even clearer was the fact that our lives weren't going to be anything like I wanted it to be. We were ghosts in this world and we no longer had a purpose. Well, I was happy enough to be with Mello, but he couldn't just sit still for the rest of his life. With nothing to do, he turned his aggression towards me. I…I saw that he didn't mean it. I knew that Mello didn't put anything into his hits, that he was struggling to bring normalcy to us while trying to find something to do with himself.

I crossed my breaking point nearly a month after Kira was killed. Sitting down against the couch, I was playing with my handheld game as usual. Mello walked up to me licking his barely touched chocolate bar. His voice interrupted my game, but what he said forced my mind to a screeching halt.

"Matt, I…I'm leaving."

It was at that moment that all my selfishness erupted. Everything that I had buried inside myself since I ran away to follow my Mello, my god, my life, everything finally boiled over in a violent wave. I couldn't take it anymore, and for the first time in my life I completely lost control.

My mind snapped.

Well? I hope that you will all review! I struggled a little with this first chapter since I was getting a feel for the whole thing, but I think that the following chapters will be a lot more enjoyable. Well, enjoyable in a sad angsty kind of way. XD

Oh, and yes, he smoked two and a half packs in a day. That's still realistic! As for the "two ton" dumpster, I think that that's a little bit of an exaggeration.