Hell and Healing

SPOILERS: All manga, all anime, L's true name, Another Note, Law and Right, Truth and Justice, Motive and Mayhem.

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Hell and Healing

Chapter 1: Missing

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The days were bleeding together, like dye in water. He could hardly tell one moment from the next as he floated aimlessly through life. How long had it been, since everything fell apart?

He didn't even know anymore. Somehow, he'd made it back to Wammy's House. His phone sat on the night stand, that message still waiting patiently for his attention, still ignored. He'd taken to laying face-down on his bed, his shirt off and scarred arm towards the door.

The children didn't like his scar, so if they came to bother him, they'd leave quickly enough to avoid it. When he heard the footsteps that accompanied the door's creak, he knew it wasn't one of the children. He closed his eyes, pressed his face a little more firmly into the pillow.

When the hands settled onto his bare back, he gave a quiet sigh. He could deal with touches, just not the words, not the god damned words. There were too many of them lately, questions or accusations, all of them made out of words. In that tone that said 'stop feeling sorry for yourself' but never quite told him how to do it.

Yeah, he was wallowing in self-pity. He knew it, and he didn't really care. He was too pissed to care, pissed at himself for being blind, pissed at Matt for stabbing him in the back, pissed at Near for simply standing by and watching it all happen. At his own fucking expense, no less!

It was a miracle he hadn't punched Near for that comment, the last time they'd seen each other. As if Mello would actually believe that Near did anything out of selfless reasons. A frown tugged at his lips even as the tension began slipping from his muscles as that delightful massage was applied.

It wasn't long before sleep finally came up and swallowed him. He was having a harder time relaxing lately. Still hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since he'd found out what Matt was.

How long had it been, again?

At least two months, maybe three. It was good, to feel hands on him, to relax beneath them and surrender to the sleep that tugged him down into its gentle embrace. He could almost pretend everything was okay.

The sleep was a deep one. So deep that he never even twitched when the worn leather was gently removed from where it had sat around his neck for nearly three years. He hadn't even taken it off for showers and the leather was tattered accordingly, with that little charm pinned right to the leather itself.

A small, gothic M. Most people mistook it for Mello's symbol. His M had been very similar to Matt's, of course. Just a subtle difference on the left side of the letter.

A difference that Near picked up on as he looked at the collar before he slipped it into his pocket. He sighed when he looked at Mello again, saw that pale strip of skin that slid around his neck where the collar had sat. He would bear the brunt of Mello's anger because, of course, it was for his own good.

Even Roger and Wammy agreed. So Near took the collar and left, leaving no record of his visit.

Ten hours later, when Mello finally woke up enough to realize that it was missing, he stormed from his room and into Roger's office. "Where is he?!"

Raising a single eyebrow, Roger slowly looked up from the child he'd been speaking to. "Mello, you'll have to wait your turn if you wish to speak with me."

"Where's Near?!" Mello snapped, ignoring the scolding.

"Wait your turn," Roger pointed at the door until, fuming, Mello stormed out again. He could only imagine that poor Wammy was about to get an earful.

Of course, that was Mello's next stop, where he made the same demand.

"America, I believe," Wammy replied warmly. "What seems to be the problem?"

"He took something of mine!" Mello snapped. "How long ago did he leave?"

"Mmm, two weeks ago, I believe," it was entirely too fun to tell that little fib, Wammy decided.

"I didn't sleep for two fucking weeks!"

"Mello, your language, please! There are young children about," Wammy scolded.

Snarling, Mello took a few seconds to reign in his temper. "If Near wasn't the one who took it, who did?"

"What has gone missing?" Wammy asked mildly.

"My co--" Mello stopped himself, but not quite quickly enough.

"Collar?" Wammy leaned back in his chair, took a moment to stare Mello down. "Then perhaps it is for the best. There's no reason for you to be tethered to a criminal."

"Did you put him up to it?" he demanded.

"No, but I do believe he mentioned that we should relieve you of that particular piece of jewelry. The action, however, was left up to him. If he was here, there has been no evidence left and frankly, no matter what he did, I'm glad he did it. You finally look as if you're really awake."

Mello snarled, turning away and storming back to his room. For three days, he wouldn't even come out. When he did, he was grumpy, rude, almost cruel to anyone who so much as looked at him for too long. Despite this, he was more helpful than he'd been in months.

That was why, a few weeks later, Wammy shared a particularly unpleasant bit of news with him.

The next few months he spent helping Wammy to deal with the Leukemia, went with him on doctor's visits, arranged for it to seem normal and natural. He helped with treatments, made sure he'd gotten his medication on time and generally helped with his workload, however light it had become over the years.

Six months passed before he was finally told to go to Japan, to fetch L and Light personally. So off he went, back to the place where his world had crumbled beneath his feet and left him so out of sorts that he still couldn't get a handle on things.

He felt strangely peaceful through it all, as he cleared himself into the building, making sure to alert them to his presence on the way up. He told them, watched the way L changed as the words slid into his mind, as comprehension dawned.

He felt as if someone had pummeled him in the gut, leaving him sick and bruised, but the words had to be said. When Light asked him to make arrangements with Aiber, Mello took the hint and retreated to another floor, making the call from an intercom mounted on the wall.

"Going to England?" Aiber raised an eyebrow. "Just what's going on?"

"Watari is dying," Mello replied quietly. He was surprised to see the shock, then sadness settle on the conman's features.

"That explains a bit, then, doesn't it?" he asked quietly. "I'll get things cleared with the appropriate authorities. Passports are in order, I assume?"

"Yeah," Mello agreed. "Passengers will be Yagami Light, Rue Ryuzaki and Mathias Green."

"I'll get the best departure time I can. Any idea how long we have?" Aiber asked, even as his fingers began dancing over a keyboard.

"A while. He's not kicking it just yet, but he's nearly bedridden," Mello shook his head weakly. "This is going to be hardest on L."

"Then it's best he's going home, isn't it?" Aiber smiled lopsidedly. "Family is the cure for grief, but you'd know something about that, wouldn't you?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it a family," Mello rolled his eyes. "Anyway, let me know when it's time to leave. I'll be in the usual room."

The one he'd shared with Matt, whenever they were at the headquarters. He couldn't resist smelling the pillows, but they'd already lost Matt's scent, lost the warmth of him. Mello found himself wondering if the linens had been laundered for exactly that reason. He rubbed his neck, the streak of skin that had once been pale from a collar resting against it.

Three long years, he'd worn Matt's letter. He'd surrendered himself to an evil he'd gotten tangled with against his will. How much, he wondered, had Matt felt for him?

He looked at his phone, at the symbol that told him there was a voice message waiting. Had it really been close to a year since that day, so long ago? He sighed deeply, put the phone back into his pocket when Aiber's disembodied voice informed him that the transport was ready.

How many hours had he stood there, remembering?

Time was so fluid anymore, he couldn't tell how long a moment lasted. The plane ride seemed terribly short and he wondered, just where was all the time going? What was he doing, freezing in place for such long stretches?

Matt's leash was still reaching him, pulling him, urging him. It disgusted him but there wasn't anything he could do, any way to push it out of mind. The memories were too sharp, too painful.

And now, another loss was about to be piled on. As Aiber drove them to the orphanage, Mello shed his first tears for Wammy. Silent, lonely tears that crept down from the corners of his eyes, wiped away before anyone else noticed them.

What had the world come to?

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A/N: And we've been introduced to numb!Mello. =3 He's a bit OoC here, but I figure it's a bit like being in shock from it all. His head is still trying to wrap around the idea that he was actually in love with Matt, even though he's still refusing to admit it to himself.