Title: Postscript

Author: Hitachiin Hikaru

Fandom: Death Note

Rating: "T" for language

Genre: Angst/Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Death Note, including characters, cities, towns, scenarios, titles, or anything else about it you can think of. I just want to express my creative intent with this fic.

Summary: Even though Matt didn't have the vaguest idea why Mello left, his confusion only grew when he saw Near standing in his doorway. MattxNear, mentions of MelloxMatt One Shot R&R Please

A/N: Dude, you never see any Matt and Near stories, do you? So here I go, trying it out. Please tell me if it sucks, or if the plot seems dumb, or whatever. I'd really appreciate it, thanks! By the way, this is just pure, randomness. Kind of fluffy, but not really much point.

He just didn't know what to think anymore. But what could one think in a situation where one's best friend leaves without a single word? No explanation, no reasoning, and the only goodbye he got was one that was hastily written out on a tiny piece of paper as a mere afterthought; a guilt trip, maybe. Was that what Matt had been after all? An addendum in the back of Mello's mind, something that required him to actually try to remember? It was as if he hadn't mattered at all, like he was just a quick fling before that filthy abandoner decided to get a move on with his own life. Matt felt something prick at his eyes as he clutched the small slip in his fist, the words written on it ringing over and over in his mind like a senseless, broken record that he didn't want to take off the player.

I'll see you later Matt.

Matt felt his throat choke up, holding back a sob. I'll see you later Matt, I'll see you later…! Was that all he had to say to him?! After all they'd been through, after the fun they had, the pranks they pulled, after every memory they made? Matt shared his world with him; he gave everything he could possibly offer and more. His first kiss was taken, his first time, his body, his will, his mind, his soul—everything. Yet, somehow, it didn't even seem to matter with all of those things added up. Mello was a taker, not a giver; he was a user, an abuser, and yet Matt still found himself blindly devoted to the blond, beyond all reason and with no regrets. Was fourteen too young of an age to be so scandalously loyal to someone? He didn't know, he didn't know anything anymore.

His world, it seemed, was black. Black like the clothes that Mello constantly wore, darkening his image and his slim figure, though without the hint of golden light that usually accompanied him. Matt's eyes glanced across the floor, trying to find something, anything, to take his anger and frustration out on. Mello's game… He picked up the cartridge and hurled it across the room, sending it flying through a window, glass showering down like rain onto his floor. He picked up something else, it didn't matter what as long as it was Mello's, and sent it out after, the hole in the glass expanding again. Furious that those acts didn't cool his rage and irritation, Matt stormed over to the window, ignoring the broken glass cutting into his bare feet, and punched through it, sending the remaining pane to litter into the grass outside or delve into his skin. "Dammit, Mello," he cursed angrily, watching the crimson liquid drip down his hand and stain the carpet of his room a deep red in spots, accenting cruelly against the normally pure white material.

Feeling strangely worn out, the redhead dropped onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes closed behind orange tinted goggles. He left his injured hand hanging off the side so it wouldn't get the sheets dirty, though he didn't know why he cared that much about it, really. He and Mello had gotten these sheets pretty damn dirty plenty of times before.

I'll see you later Matt.

He rolled over and clutched the pillow to his ears, trying to block out the sound of his voice.

I'll see you later Matt.

He curled into a tighter ball, screwing his eyes shut. Why wouldn't it go away?!

I'll see you later…

"Matt?" The voice startling him slightly, he blinked and glanced over to the doorframe, watching as a little boy in all white stood there, a stuffed bunny in one arm and his free hand twirling a lock of colorless hair. His large gray eyes watched the boy for a moment, examining the scene systematically as he usually did, flawlessly and without fail. Wrecked window, blood everywhere, tired appearance, note clenched tightly in his left hand. It was obvious what was going on here, however in an effort to be considerate, he chose to ask quietly nevertheless, "Matt… are you quite all right?" He didn't answer, just shot Near an hardhearted glance and turned over to face the wall, not wanting to have to tell everything to that… that child. He wouldn't understand, he could never understand.

After a few minutes, he was positive that the genius was gone, but his bed sinking slightly behind him notified him to the fact that Near was indeed still here, and trying to get into his bed. He turned to tell him to go fuck off and die, but his eyes met the sight of Near sitting there with his stuffed animal clutched to his chest, wide eyes childlike and deceiving as ever. Matt couldn't say a word, not with a picture that innocent, that unmolested in his view, when he, full of sin and lust and desire, sat in his misery that was fully deserved, given by someone he trusted completely. Was it supposed to hurt that much when an angel sat beside you? "What the hell do you want Near?" he asked coolly, trying to avoid alerting him to any pain or anguish he was feeling.

He said nothing at first, just watched him for a moment before holding the rabbit out to him and looking on with a neutral expression. "You can hold Bunny." Matt stared at him incredulously for a moment before shaking his head and lying back down, that body part feeling heavier and heavier with each passing moment. The bed moved again and he heard Near leave, glad that he was finally gone. His eyelids began to close, but a strange sensation on his feet startled him, making him glance down and see that Near was bandaging up the glass-filled flesh.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, though he wasn't trying too hard to get his foot away anyway. Near's hands were easy on his skin, and they tickled ever so slightly as they wrapped the bandages around the appendage, treating it cautiously. When he was through he climbed back onto the bed next to Matt, tugging his hand out from under the pillow and carefully pulling bits and shards of glass out of it with a pair of tweezers, then moving on to bandage it. The redhead watched in surprise for the entire procedure, shocked that Near wanted to help him, though comforted by the softness of his hands and his gentleness with caring for the injured spots. He didn't know what to think about this, and found himself becoming confused all over again. This just didn't seem to be his fucking day.

When he was finished Matt didn't say anything, just laid back down to face the wall and closed his exhausted eyes again. Something fuzzy brushed against his face and he opened them to see Near's toy resting against the wall in front of him, and felt the warmth of the twelve-year-old himself curled up against his back, his slightly curly hair barely brushing the nape of Matt's neck. He sighed and sat up, looking down at Near to tell him to go away. But he saw that the child prodigy was fast asleep, one hand gently clutching the back of Matt's shirt and the other resting lightly on his own thin chest. Letting another quiet breath escape him as he rested down next to him once more, the red-haired teenager put his face next to Near's, lightly brushing his lips to his in a silent way of saying thank you. The contact didn't last long; he didn't want to have his sins rub off onto this naïve child.

He was slumbering beside him after a few minutes, however Near opened his eyes as soon as he became unconscious, turning his head almost indistinctly to look at him. Tears were slowly but surely going down his cheeks now; the raw emotion he had tried so hard to hide previously from Near, showing completely in his most vulnerable state. He never expected to see someone like Matt cry, and here he was, crying over someone like Mello for leaving. Leaving him all alone in the world; or so he thought. Near reached one hand out and pulled the goggles gently from his face and folded them, putting them onto the nightstand beside him before curling back up next to Matt, squirming into his arms and closing his eyes, still feeling the faint touch of Matt's mouth against his lips.

He appreciated Matt's chaste kiss. It was all he had left to give.