Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Death Note. All credit goes to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. They're awesome (:

Author's note: I don't know why I keep writing Death Note one-shots. Ah, well. (: This is my take on the aftermath of the explosion. Every author needs one, me reckons. (:
FLUFF WARNING.
If you read this, please, please review. I love reviews!

~What Doesn't Kill You ~

Mello lies on his soft white bed in the darkness, his heart thudding painfully against his chest. He's safe, but that doesn't change anything. He's in agony. The entire left side of his body feels like it is burning away to nothingness. His head is pounding, he's dizzy, and he feels like throwing up because the pain is absolutely nauseating.

And there's nothing he can do about it.

The pain is still so real, so clear, so agonizing – although, Mello's not surprised. He expects that the memory of the excruciating pain will stay with him for a very long time.

In between his deep, shaky breaths, Mello shivers in the bed; it's just so cold. Matt made sure to make him as cool as possible - anything to help his burns - but now he's just freezing and miserable.

Gently, Mello presses a cold hand to his burning face, and winces slightly. His skin is raw and hot and rough, and he knows that the scar will be with him forever.

But even though he used to have an absolutely gorgeous face, with flawless, smooth skin that most girls would die for, Mello doesn't care that he's going to have a scar running down the left side of his face. He knows that Matt will love him no matter what; and that's all that Mello really cares about.

But, as he thinks about Matt, crystal tears leak out of the corner of his eyes. They trail down his face and cool his scalding-hot flesh. He can't imagine what would have happened if Matt hadn't saved him. Death was so terrifyingly close, and it should now feel like a distant dream; but it doesn't.

And that makes the tears fall harder.

But, because life is unfair, and all he really wants to do is to forget about everything, Mello keeps drifting off to sleep, and dreaming about the explosion. He just wants the dreams and the memories to disappear. He's only been in bed for a few hours, and he's already had the same dream three times.

But it's not a dream; it's a nightmare.

Blood.

He's covered in sticky red blood, and doesn't know where it's coming from. It's warm, and thick, and he's growing exhausted from the lack of it in his body. He's pouring scarlet sorrow and wishful desire, and he's scared because he's never bled so much in his life before, and he fears that this will kill him.

He doesn't want to die.

Sweat.

The combination of damp sweat and glistening blood is causing ash and dust to stick to his body. He's a grotesque tangle of blistering, charred limbs, scorched, torn leather, and dusty golden hair. Everything it so uncomfortable; he can't open his eyes properly. He's drenched with sweat because it's so damn hot, and he's so damn scared.

He doesn't want to die.

Pain.

He's screeching in pain, because it hurts so much. It's stabbing, burning, piercing at his very core. He's never been in so much pain before in his life. He wants with all of his heart to drift off into a dark unconsciousness – anything to escape his agony – but he can't. The pain keeps him awake.

He doesn't want to die.

Breath.

He's having trouble breathing; the air is so smoky, so dusty, and it's sticking to the inside of his throat. Every breath he takes makes him gasp and choke, and his lungs burn with a deep intensity; it feels as thought they're going to burst.

He doesn't want to die.

Praying.

He's praying to someone up above, hoping that the someone up there is forgiving enough to send Matt to him. Matt. He grips at the rosary hanging around his neck with a hysterical strength, but it's not doing any good. What's the point in believing when there's no one up there to save you?

He doesn't want to die.

Giving up.

He's giving up hope; there's nothing he can do anymore to save himself. He's trapped underneath a burning piece of something and it's too heavy to move, and he's too weak to try. He's closing his eyes, and allowing the vicious pain to consume him.

He doesn't want to die, but he doesn't think that he has a choice.

Dying.

He's slipping away. The bright, flickering flames of the ferocious fire are blurring and fading, and it's a struggle to keep his eyes open. Now that he's so close to death, he realizes that he doesn't want to die. He doesn't want everything to end; he's scared of what he'll miss. He's scared of the unknown.

He doesn't want to die. But he's alone in the darkness.

Angel.

Just as he's closed his eyes for the very last time, he feels the burning thing being lifted off of his body. He's confused, and doesn't know what's happening to him, but it's such a struggle to open his eyes, so he doesn't. He thinks that maybe he's just losing all sense of judgment – the world is twisting and turning, after all – or maybe he's just dead. Maybe he's in Hell.

But then he feels the soothing, gentle, warm arms of an angel lifting him from the fiery pits of Hell. He clings to the strong, sweet smelling figure with all of his might, and slowly opens his ice blue eyes.

It's Matt.

And then he knows he's not going to die.

Mello wakes from his nightmare with a rough gasp. He's sweating again, and trembling all over. Without thinking, he sits bolt upright (ignoring the excruciating pain stabbing viciously at his weak body), and screeches, "Matty!" at the top of his lungs. He clutches at his chest; his heart is beating so fast that it's pounding against his chest painfully.

Mello is terrified, even though he knows that it was all just a dream.

But, in an instant, Matt's slim arms are around his waist, and he's gently kissing the unburned side of Mello's face.

"Shh, Mels, honey. Everything will be fine." Matt murmurs soothingly, brushing his lips against Mello's cheekbones, nose, eyelids. "You're safe now. We'll get through this. Everything will be fine."

Matt's voice is alert and sharp; he's obviously not been asleep. For some bizarre reason, the thought comforts Mello. Matt's awake – so Mello's not alone in the quiet, chilling darkness.

Mello trembles again, and wraps his desperate, shaking fingers around Matt's baggy black night shirt with a panic-stricken intensity. He sobs again; emptying his heart of all of its fear and hurt.

"It hurts, Matty." Mello whispers huskily. His throat is still burning. "I'm so scared… I don't know what to do. The nightmares…"

Mello doesn't like showing his weaknesses, but, in front of Matt, he knows it doesn't matter. Because Matt's seen him at his worst, and still loves him for who he is. And Mello knows that's what true love means.

"I know, Mels, I know. But it'll get better – I promise. You're still incredibly strong, utterly beautiful, and absolutely terrifying. Things will get better, trust me."

Mello swallows thickly, and presses himself to Matt's warm body.

There's a bit of a silence, and Matt holds Mello's body close. It hurts him to see his lover so tortured, and, although he's done his best to help Mello, he knows that his best is not enough.

"…Thank you, Matty." Mello says suddenly, his voice breaking. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there to save me."

Of course, he does know what would have happened if Matt hadn't salvaged his charred, wounded body from the fiery wreck, but imaging the unbearable pain of both burning and suffocating to death at the same time is one of the most horrifying things Mello can envision.

"I'll always be there to save you, Mels." Matt says as he kisses the end of Mello's nose.

The sentence makes Mello want to cry. He's so lucky that Matt is such a kind, warm-hearted, forgiving person. He's so lucky that Matt loves him.

Mello smiles weakly to himself, yawns, and shifts uncomfortably, causing the duvet to brush painfully against his burned shoulder.

"Ah, shit…"

Matt sighs sympathetically, and gently rubs his thumb over the scarred, scorching-hot skin at the base of Mello's neck. It surprises Mello that the action doesn't hurt, but, then again, Matt's always been gentle.

"I'm a complete failure, aren't I?" Mello murmurs into the darkness. He feels Matt's body move beside him, and suddenly Matt's chin is resting lightly on his shoulder.

"What are you talking about? You're not a failure; you're in pain. You can't help that." Matt says.

Matt wonders briefly if maybe Mello's delirious. Surely he's too tired, and in too much pain not to be?

Mello shakes his head. "No, not that… It's just, if Near was in my situation, he wouldn't have blown up the hideout. He would have just shot Yagami before he was forced to do anything drastic." Mello says without emotion. "It's no wonder why I'm always second. I'm so fucking useless."

Matt is silent for a few seconds. "…Just because Near would have done something differently to you, doesn't mean that you're a failure." He says slowly. "And listen to me, Mihael Keehl; you are not useless. Anything but. And you're definitely first in my eyes."

Mello gives a small, pathetic smile. No matter how true Matt's compliments may be, they're futile at the moment.

"…C'mon, Matt. Look at me." Mello gestures the burnt side of his face. "I am useless. I couldn't even get out of the explosion I initiated without injuring myself."

Matt gives a small, sad smirk. "Mels, normal people can't escape explosions without being wounded. I think you did well. You always do well."

Mello scowls to himself, his burnt skin stretching grotesquely. "Near would have escaped." He says, being purposefully obstinate. "Near's so goddamn good at everything."

Matt groans quietly to himself.

"You're so fucking stubborn. Why can't you see how brilliant you are?"

Mello raises an eyebrow, and something akin to a snort escapes him. "Go on, then. Tell me why I'm so fucking fabulous."

"Fishing for compliments, hm?" Matt questions cheekily. "Alright then. First of all, you're absolutely gorgeous, scars or not. In fact, I think your scar will make you more sexy, if that's at all possible. Having a scar is totally badass. And you've got the body of a sex god, and the face of an angel."

Mello can't help but to smile slightly.

Matt likes to see Mello smiling.

"Secondly, you're a genius. I know you think that you're not as smart as that little twit Near, but you're wrong. You made your way into the fucking Mafia, Mello. You were pretty much the boss of everything. You have to be smart to be in charge of an entire illegal organization. How do you think Near would have coped in the Mafia?" Matt questions.

Mello nods his head. "Alright. I'll grant you the fact that Near would have been shot within minutes."

Matt smiles. Good. He's making progress. He needs to rebuild Mello's confidence, because Matt knows that as soon as Mello realizes how great he is, he'll be back to the arrogant, self-assured, flirtatious person Matt fell in love with.

"Thirdly, you're kind and considerate."

Mello looks slightly startled at this "wild accusation".

Matt chuckles at the baffled look on his lover's face. "Let me explain. Remember last month when I was out of cigarettes? You went and bought me some more, without me even asking. And remember that time when you offered to give me that foot massage even though it was your birthday? And that time when the power went out and my torch ran out of batteries, so you gave me your torch's batteries because you didn't want me to hurt myself. Do you remember?"

Mello nods, still unsure of what Matt is trying to say. "Yes, I remember, but those are all little, insignificant things. They don't count in the grand scheme of things." Mello breaks off to cough – and it's a low, hacking noise – before speaking up again. "And I only did them because I love you so fucking much."

Matt raises an eyebrow. "They don't count? You're wrong Mels. And I could list so many more things about why I love you. But I'll settle for a few. You're kind, and gorgeous, and confident, and smart, and brilliant, and strong, and absolutely terrifying. You're Mello, and you're perfect. You're my perfect."

Matt is startled to see silent tears running down Mello's face.

"Mels, honey? Oh shit, have I offended you?" Matt asks, panicked. "I'm so sorry if I have; I didn't mean to."

Mello offers a weak smile before carefully burying his face into Matt's chest.

"No, you haven't offended me. It's just, I was wondering what I ever did in life to deserve someone like you. You're the only person who would ever stick around with me, even after all of the shit I put you through. When we argue over something I've done wrong, you're always the first one to say sorry. When I do something fucking stupid – like today, for example – you're always there to make it better. Fuck, I don't deserve an angel like you." Mello says, frowning into the black fabric covering Matt's toned chest.

Matt chuckles, and shifts his position so that he and Mello are lying down. Mello's head is resting lightly on the redhead's chest; his golden hair tickling Matt's neck.

There's silence for a few minutes, before Matt speaks up.

"You know what they say, right? "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"." Matt murmurs into Mello's ear.

Mello is silent, and Matt's beginning to think that maybe Mello's fallen asleep when the blonde speaks up, his voice determined.

"…Yeah. That's right. I'm stronger now. I'll be able to do this. I can win, right? But only if you promise to always be by my side."

Matt smiles as Mello's eyes flicker shut; the poor blonde is shattered – in more ways than one – and he really needs sleep. Matt's surprised that he can still form coherent sentences.

"I promise I'll always be by your side. What am I without you, huh?"

Mello smiles, his eyes still closed. "You're the key that unlocks my heart, Matty."

And with that, Mello drifts off into a deep, dreamless sleep; leaving Matt slightly puzzled as to what he meant.

But then Matt smiles, and closes his eyes.

"… I love you too, Mihael."