Each shot felt like a punch in the chest. The colour was draining from the world with each impact. It hurt, oh god, it hurt. I was dying. I didn't want to die. It wasn't supposed to go like this, Mello had promised. Mello had promised. Mello had lied.

The red of my car was turning grey. I'd spent so much time fixing up that damn car, now I was dead and they'd shot it up.

I tried remembering Mello's face. Mello, my Mihael.

His blonde hair was shining; his eyes still a perfect shade of sapphire blue. I didn't want to forget his eyes.

My life flashed before my eyes, and as it did, Mello took the starring role.

God, I loved him. Why couldn't the bastard accept that?

What if he had known? What if he had been playing me all these years?

He didn't love me.

If he'd loved me, he wouldn't have left me alone. He knew how bad I needed him and he still fucking left me.

I remembered every night. Each fucking second of each fucking night and it hurt. It hurt worse than the bullets.

I remembered clutching at his sheets, smelling his beautiful scent.

I remembered the tears, the never ending stream of tears that poured down my cheeks day and night for weeks.

I remembered the prayers, the begging words I had cried; screamed, whispered and shouted to a god I don't believe in.

I had died inside without Mello. But then I had known; I had known I still had time, maybe, maybe he would come back. That little note he'd written me, scribbled on the back of a picture of the two of us laughing

Goodbye, Mail,

It has to be just me this time, for now at least

Please, don't forget me

Mello.

I had cried over that picture. I had cried so many times I couldn't keep count. As if I could ever, ever forget Mello. I loved him, more than made sense.

I recalled the day when I there was a light tap on the window, and I looked up, crying, to see Mello, chocolate bar in hand, and he had asked me to come with him.

Fool that I was, I went.

Everything had gone downhill from there. I had become Mello's release. There was an agreement, whispered, while he touched me, that he wouldn't take his anger out on me, if I agreed to be his, and only his.

I agreed, of course I did, with those hands running over my body, I couldn't have said no.

He had hurt me. He had used me. And I had loved every second. The way he touched me, harsh, cruel, and yet somehow gentle. The pain was good, because it was from Mello.

Anything from Mello was good.

It was those nights that had killed me, ultimately. Not the bullets that now riddled my body. If he had never made those promises then I wouldn't be here. I could have gone, couldn't I?

I could have tried.

But I didn't try. I gave up.

But the sex, and the way Mello hurt me, it wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough.

So now, my blood was laced with poison.

The feel of a needle sliding into me was comforting.

My wrists, hips, thighs and stomach were laced with scars and cuts.

The pain had become everything.

But it wasn't as good as the way Mello hurt me. Nothing was.

I could have tried, yes, but I would have failed.

Mello had hit me, he had beaten me, he had whispered, every night, that he loved me.

Every night I wished that he did. I wished that he loved me as I loved him.

Completely, totally and unconditionally.

The world was dark now, my vision going black.

This was it. This was the end.

Every scar, every mark for every needle had paled to insignificance in the face of this.

I was going to die.

I was going to lose Mello.

And then, in an instant, the darkness consumed me.

The cigarette fell from my lips.

My heart faltered, stopped.

Time had run out.

I was floating, floating in blackness.

So this was death. This emptiness.

My need for the drugs was gone. I didn't want to pick up the razor anymore.

I only wanted Mihael. To hear his voice, one last time. Then I could be at peace.

Then, through the darkness, it came.

Words, words with a power like no other.

"Matt, I never thought you'd be killed. I'm sorry.'

As the blackness around me became a bright white light that consumed me there was time for one last thought.

I love you Mihael.

Don't forget me.