Disclaimer- I do not own Death Note, Kevin Hart, or...anything really :(

A/N-I know it's like...a month after I said I would update. I really am terribly sorry.

If you can find my Kevin Hart reference I'll write you a one-shot :)

"Please put on your seatbelts." The pilot's voice sounded through the intercom thing. I groaned mentally because that meant I had to wake the woman next to me (The bitch was sound asleep on my shoulder). I looked at Mello for help but he made a point of ignoring me.

I sighed and braced myself for an outburst.

"Mam? Mam please get off me, the pilot said we have to put on our seatbelts." I whispered. She didn't move. Not even a little. I heard Mello snort beside me.

"Come on man. Say it with your chest!" He said with a small smirk.

"You do it then!" I replied with a small glare. He reached around the front of me and shoved the sleeping woman.

"Wake up bitch!" He shouted. The whole plane turned to glare at me. Not Mello. Me. Apparently they thought I had shouted the profanity. So did the woman.

"Why you little shit!" She growled and proceeded in beating me with her carry-on bag. Mello was too busy dying of laughter to be of any assistance and I couldn't go around throwing punches at girls so I curled up in a ball and tried to block her hits with my arms.

Finally a flight attendant came over and instructed the woman to stop and put on her seatbelt. She complied with a happy smile.

Crazy bitch.

I pulled on my seatbelt with a frown. After I was finished I turned and glared at Mello who was once again, making a point of looking out of the window. I glared at the back of his bright blond head, wishing he would turn and notice.

He didn't. Well fuck him too.

The plane jerked violently to the left and my fingers curled over the arm rest. What the fuck? I glanced out the window and by doing so got a glimpse of Mello's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth formed a nice, neat little 'O'.

God! He's gotta stop doing that!

I felt the plane dip quickly and almost yelped. What the hell was going on? Mello had closed the window shade and was staring with a calculating expression at the seat in front of him.

"Mello? Mello what the fuck is going on?" I demanded. He looked over at me with an expression that resembled fright but wasn't quite there.

"Honestly?"

"Of course honestly you ass! Why would I ask for a lie?" He glared at me.

"Fuck you. If the rapidly descending plane didn't tip you off-" He was cut off by a voice on the loudspeaker.

"Ladies and Gentleman please look to your flight attendants for the proper safety protocol. We're in for a very bumpy ride." The voice said. The attendants seemed to go into super mode. They instructed us to remove our eyewear and jewelry, put on our oxygen masks, and try and stay relaxed.

I removed my goggles and stuffed them in my back pocket.

"We're going to be in an accident. Nice knowing you Matt." Mello finished his earlier sentence and proceeded to pull on his oxygen mask. I gaped at him for a moment, and then followed in his lead.

There's no way in hell I would survive a plane crash only to be killed by lack of oxygen.

"Mayday! Mayday! We're going down! Brace for impact! Mayday!" The voice cried frantically. I still couldn't quite believe this was happening. I escaped whammy's only to die in a fucking plane crash?

God must really have it against me.

As the plane jerked violently to the right and then plummeted downward I grabbed Mello's hand almost out of reflex. Someone was shrieking and the pilot was screaming over the intercom and I was squeezing the shit out of Mello's fingers. Or was he squeezing mine? I couldn't tell.

The very last thing I heard was a loud "Shit!" and then a huge bang.

Ow. That was about my only thought process. Ow, fuck, and damn. Other than that I was completely useless. I wasn't even sure what my name was.

Why the fuck can't I see anything? I began to panic and then realized that my eyes were closed. God, what Mello would have done had he seen my stupidity.

Where the hell was Mello anyway? I forced my eyelids open only to find that the light was so fucking bright it looked like Jesus was going to descend from the ceiling. My hand automatically tried to shield my eyes, but that didn't really work out so well seeing as it seemed to be on fire as soon as
I moved it.

I cried out in pain. Seconds later a woman in annoyingly blue scrubs came rushing in.

"Hello? Sweetheart, do you know your name?" She questioned softly. I stared at her and feigned stupidity.

Scrubs, bright lights, white walls, pain in the arm, un-comfortable bed? Hospital. Shit.

"What? Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse from lack of usage. She sighed and moved a little closer.

"Call me Jackie. Sweetie you were in a plane crash. No one has identified you as theirs. We're assuming you're an unaccompanied minor. Do you know your name?" She asked sweetly and patted my knee sympathetically.

It was obvious that she thought my parents had died in the crash. Haha, my parents were dead but not in the way she was sympathizing with.

I wonder if she would keep sympathizing if she knew how they died?

"M-my name is Carl. Carl Simmons." I lied and wiped my eyes for good effect. She nodded with pity written on her face and left the room.

I looked around quickly and examined my body. My arm was in a brace thing but nothing else seemed to be fucked up. I removed the wires from my body carefully and stood. I nearly fell over because of the soreness in my legs, but caught myself on the dresser just in time.

I smiled broadly when I saw that my carry-on bag had made the trip. I ran over to it and yanked out a change of clothes. After that was finished I looked around in a mild panic for my goggles. I spotted them next to my bed and yanked them over my eyes.

I checked the room to make sure I hadn't missed anything and then slipped out of the door. No one gave me a second glance until I reached the elevator.

"Can I help you?" A man of around thirty asked me as he stood next to me. I was about to ask where the cafeteria was (then I could probably find the exit) but stopped myself short.

"Where can I find out about the plane crash victims?" I asked quietly, not meeting his eyes. I felt him study the top of my head and then he sighed.

"The main lobby had photos of everyone that came here. Dead or alive. Good luck kid." He told me and let me board the elevator by myself. I silently thanked him.

I wondered what had happened to Mello. He couldn't be dead…right? I mean, he was Mello. Eater of chocolate, master of tempers, beater of Matt. That kind of guy doesn't just die.

I stepped out of the elevator at the ground floor and stepped out. There was a large crowd towards my left and I figured that must be the area for the victims' families. In spite of myself, I found that I was wishing vehemently that I wouldn't be a mourner. That Mello would be looking for me in the lobby.

I had to stop myself from jogging to the cluster-fuck that was awaiting me. I just had to know.

There were a lot of people sobbing all over each other and a few that were screaming at doctors. But past all of that was what I really wanted. The board with the people.

I rushed towards it and pushed a few people out of my way. I saw a picture of me and tore it off with no hesitation.

Whammy instincts run deep.

I scanned every face for blond hair and blue eyes but came up with no one who resembled Mello. That means he's not at this hospital right? Yes, it has to mean that.

I ran out of the exit, ignoring the shouts that heard around me. I ran until I came across a grocery store, at which point I slid inside and picked up a newspaper.

Apparently I had made it into the states. New Jersey to be in fact. I was in some kind of sub-urban town that was holding some kind of festival tomorrow. I wasn't sure what to do at this point.

How was I supposed to find Mello? This is fucking ridiculous.

I shook myself before walking over to the ATM and withdrawing money from the account of the man that I was pretending to be. After that, everything passed in a blur. I found myself in a hotel room with no recollection of how I got there.

I closed the door with a worried expression, but on the inside I kind of felt like a ninja. How many kids my edge could hack into an international bank, survive a plane crash, make it into America, and book themselves a hotel room? Not many.

Damn I'm awesome.

But where was Mello? I knew he wasn't dead. He couldn't be. It was physically impossible to kill the entity. That's like killing Jesus or Buddha. The shit just doesn't happen!

So if he wasn't dead…where the hell was he?

I physically shook myself. Just because he wasn't at the hospital I was, that doesn't mean he's not at another. But how was I supposed to figure out which one he was in? Goddammit. Why can't anything be something resembling easy?

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand to find it was eleven on the dot. I remembered that the lobby had a computer and a smile grew on my face.

I knew I probably looked like a maniac but I didn't give a shit. I had just made the epiphany of a century. Alright…maybe not a century. More like the year…or month…or day…okay! Hour. Was it even really an epiphany? Whatever! It didn't matter.

I gave myself a once over in the mirror, ignored the fact that I looked and possibly smelled like shit, and marched my stinky self down to the lobby. They were going to let me see that computer.

The woman behind was young. Sixteen? Maybe even seventeen? I wondered idly how old you had to be to work here, but maybe her father was the manager or something. I didn't know and didn't care.

"Can I help you?" She asked timidly. I grinned like I was nervous (which I guess I was) and twirled a piece of hair. Every time Near did it, every woman within a twenty foot radius cooed over him.

"Well, I was just wondering if I could use that computer." I replied shyly. She gave me a once over and the blush that covered my face wasn't all fake.

"Uh…for what?" I figured now was time to break out the sob story. Don't girls love that kind of stuff? I sniffled for good effect.

"It's my uncle. He was in that plane crash and my mother can't get in contact with him. We got here as soon as we saw it on the news but we don't know what hospital he's staying at." I looked down and shuffled my feet. "Our only option is to check every hospital around here." I lied. I knew it was a long shot so I sniffled and removed my goggles so I could wipe my eyes furiously.

When I looked at her again, she looked near tears herself. Without a word, she nodded and stepped away from the computer. I quickly took her place and wrote down every hospital and the address down on the hotel memo pad thing that sat next to the giant square of knowledge.

I thanked the girl who replied with a hug and a good-luck and went back to my room. I smiled as I collapsed onto the mattress.

Somehow Mello didn't feel so far away anymore.

I checked every single one of those hospitals with the help of a few taxi drivers and an old man who gave me directions once.

No Mello.

I sat on my new hotel rooms' mattress and stared at the wall opposite wall. When I realized what this could mean, my head fell pathetically into my hands. He really was dead.

Dead.

That word and Mello didn't seem to be able to co-exist in the same sentence. I wanted to ignore my brain and believe that Mello was alive and well, stealing chocolate from poor un-suspecting gas-station clerks.

But I was cursed with logic and the previous notion seemed highly impossible. I curled into myself on my mattress and wished Mello was yelling at me. Or replying sarcastically to any question I could think of. But he wasn't.

And that god-forsaken voice in the back of my head (it kind of sounds like Near) kept warning me that he never would.

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