Disclaimer : I do not own Death Note or any of it's characters. I don't really want to either, because writing fanfiction about something you actually own...doesn't make much sense...

Author's Note : Hello everybody. Here's the final chapter. Sorry it took me so long; I've just been feeling a little uninspired and was focusing more on my own original work. I hope you like this conclusion. I want to thank everyone who reviewed on this story, because I never believed it would be accepted this generously. So yes, thank you so much. Also, I want to thank the person who proofread these chapters and definitely motivated me to actually finish this, rileyluvr13.

A quick note, this has a different format than the other chapters. It is all one experience, not flashbacks and thoughts. With that, I also apologize for any spelling mistakes I may have missed. I hope you find it satisfying, even if it is not the ending you would have preferred, and I hope it doesn't seem rushed. It felt a little like that to me.

Thank you again, and please review and share your thoughts. Enjoy.

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.:. Chapter Eight .:.

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Minutes passed, maybe hours passed; to be honest, I could never tell anyone how long I sat there like a soulless corpse. I think I could have moved, if I tried, but there was no will in me. My arms and legs were heavy, granite limbs held together with the thinest threads, ready to collapse like any poorly assembled structure.

Eventually, I stumbled my way to the couch, collapsing upon it and turning on the television set, tedious news reports filling up the brightly lit screen. I followed along robotically, feeling the unseen time bomb with every new story, each commercial break.

"We interrupt your scheduled program for this announcement. An unidentified man has kidnapped Kiyomi Takada. His accomplice was killed at the scene, yet the other is still at large. If anyone has any information that can assist the police, please call the station. Here's a description of the kidnapper. While his face was covered by a helmet, we do know he rode a black motorcycle-"

My heart was in my throat, eyes glued to the scene as the mechanical voice spoke, pictures flashing across in rapid fire.

Mello's motorcycle, speeding on the street, a woman with shortly-cropped black hair clinging to him in obvious panic.

Frightened bystanders and stunned bodyguards, gathered around the scene in one thick, horrid mob.

Matt, lying crumpled against the street like a rag doll, still smoking wounds decorating his chest.

"He said..." I stammered incomprehensibly, watching more close ups of Matt's pale face, the cigarette dangling pitifully in his mouth.

Falling back onto the couch, I dug my fingers into the fabric painfully and waited, knowing there was nothing else I could possibly do.

"We have some saddening news," the anchor began, her practiced face turning melancholy as she began pitching the story of her career. "Kiyomi Takada and her kidnapper were both found only a few moments ago in an abandoned church on the west side of town. However, I'm sorry to say she died in a sudden explosion, the source of which is still under speculation. Luckily, her despicable abductor perished as well. We will all mourn-"

The red power button never seemed more inviting when my thumb slammed down upon it, a tiny click signaling the screen to fade to black. I couldn't think as I staggered to my feet, leaving the apartment without even closing the door behind me. The next thing I could comprehend, I was standing before a gray, dilapidated building, watching one streetlamp flicker in the corner of my eye.

Don't ask me how I got there, because I don't know myself. When I think back, I remember the demonic red and tainted white from police cars exploding through the air, their piercing sirens blasting through my ears and ricocheting against the cloaking black of night. The sensation of blending with the shadows and molding into the dumb crowds still pricked in the corners of my being, but as I said, the method was unimportant.

All that mattered was the garish yellow police tape lying broken on the ground, the peeling door swinging violently in the wind. My booted feet made almost no sound as I slipped through the halls, the unnamed labyrinth that silently told me this is where I needed to be. The path was barely illuminated, just a foggy spray of sickly white that weakly lit the way.

As I moved through each constricting cage, the air grew stale. It clumped together in my throat with dust and age, choking me on its way down. The light grew slowly with each step, whispering for me to come closer, to follow. Its pale, dangerous hands gestured to me like I was a child, grabbing my own fingers and puling me forward.

The slippery claws fell away when I stopped before a corridor that I somehow knew had to be the one. I passed each door, the light pushing me on until I reached the last decaying portal of rotted wood. I grasped the knob, squeezing to feel its solidity before twisting it open, the creaking filling the space to the brim and scaring the light away.

There were two beds inside, each lying on opposite ends of the dank, foul room. Once I stepped inside, a revolting scent washed over me and I almost retched, just keeping my composure as I stumbled a few feet forward. My eyes stung but I did my best to ignore the feeling while inching to the closest covered coffin.

My hand trembled when I lifted it, clutching the mockingly pristine sheet and ripping it back to counter my overwhelming fear. Uttering a pitiful cry of relief, I collapsed on my knees, knuckles turning white from my grip on the metal frame.

"I'm sorry, Matt," I whispered when I recovered, free tears dripping down my face. His eyes were still open behind his cracked googles, and a burst of anger ignited in me at the sight. Even his lips were still desecrated by the remainder of gray ashes.

Had Kira really instilled such uncaring for human life in his people, that the police wouldn't even treat the dead with the basic respect? A body should never be condemned to this state, whether or not they sinned or saved. They had practically just thrown his body in here and hid it away, hoping the evidence would rot along with their responsibility.

Ignoring the uncomfortable shaking in my fingers, I pulled down Matt's ruined googles, shutting those glassy, lifeless eyes and saving them from staring up at the world that had dimmed their green brilliance. Afterwards, I stepped back, unsure what to say when a quick spark caught my vision.

A small square of light was flashing where Matt's side must've been, and I nervously peeled the cover further to reveal the pockets of his dirtied pants, reaching inside. A choked cry of happiness leaped out of my stony lips when my fingers furled around that familiar handheld, even able to recognize the scratches on the left side. I brought it up to my swimming field of view, smiling faintly as the high score screen shifted before my eyes. Before I could memorize it further, the power died and faded to nothing, leaving me with the toy of a dead man.

Part of me wanted to take it, to bring it with me and play it in the memory of the friend who had worn the buttons so far you couldn't tell A from B. But looking down at the device in my grasp, I knew there was only one place where it could be.

I moved Matt's arms until his hands were open on his chest, and I placed the handheld in them, gripping his fingers until they held it as he used to.

"I'll miss you," I admitted, still clinging to his frigid soulless shell. Grayscale scenes projected in my mind like an old movie, and what little contentment I had snuck away and left me empty.

"Thank you for trying."

I let him go and faced the left of the room, where another bed held a covered figure that waited for me with the patience the real one had lacked.

That horrible smell filled my senses as I forced myself forward, and I finally recognized it to be the one of burnt flesh. The acrid, pungent odor grew when I staggered closer, blossoming my fear and murdering my resolve. I was so afraid to see what lay beneath that shield, that fence that separated dreams and reality.

Please don't be under there Mello.

I knew it would be him before I drew the sheet back. He had never listened to my pleas in life, so why would he in death?

As I caught a glimpse of the tortured body beneath, I shied away and buried my face in my hands, breathing evenly to keep myself calm. No words could explain that terrible mess of charcoal, ripped skin and blackened bone peeking through. I stood hunched over, trying not to be sick from the image growing in my hand, the ghoulish imprint of a skull taking over. I tried to control myself, filling those sizzled eye sockets with shining teal eyes, and that ashy bone with soft skin and golden hair. That was the Mello I knew, the on who slept on in my heart, and the one I needed to remember at this moment.

I glanced back, straightening when I saw the body of the young man I loved lying there, his yellow hair spread over the white rebelliously and his body still as if in sleep. It was easier to look now, and I even smiled as I stepped closer. The image was inconsistent, switching between a deceptive angel and a devilish victim. The scene awakened both joy and anger in me.

"Look at you..." I trailed off almost absentmindedly, my hands snapping back into fists.

"Why didn't you listen to me!"

I flipped around rapidly, searching for something throw, to smash, to destroy. Anything to set these feelings free. When I found nothing, I sunk to the floor, slamming blows onto the decrepit floor like a madman. Tiny dents bloomed underneath my fists, the weak planks of wood cracking from the pressure it wasn't used to.

"All your ridiculous pride! Kira, Kira, Kira! Near, Near, Near!" I shrieked with each hit, my pained voice echoing in the tiny space like a condemning jury. "You're dead you idiot! How does that fit in with you being L! You stupid moron!"

"I told you I loved you..." I whimpered pathetically, running out of things to shout and scream.

I flicked my gaze up towards the ceiling, imagining past it to the starry sky where Heaven was supposed to be.

"Are you happy?"

There was no answer for me, and when I stood to look at Mello, he was a corpse again.

Something glimmered in the crushed remains of his chest, and I recognized a cross draping against what remained of a follower. I leaned forward, lifting it off the body gently and cringing when the chain snapped against what remained of the neck. When I stared at it for a few seconds, it glowed unnaturally bright in such a dark, godless room.

Mello's faith hadn't saved him, but...maybe it could save me.

If there really was a God watching our lives play out from the heavens, well I couldn't say I believed in that for sure. Yet, I needed some meaning now, because I was standing on an impossible island surrounded by raging oceans that left me with nowhere to turn. I craved something to believe in, some reason to keep breathing.

This might bring me faith, that there was someone I could be now, something I could accomplish with what remained of my life, even if the one I loved was not in it.

With jittery hands, I tied the chain around my neck apprehensively, the small weight comfortable and reassuring against my chest. I looked at Mello again, nodding to myself before dragging the sheet back over his retched remains.

Mello could never overcome his obsession, but...maybe I could overcome mine.

My steps timid and unsure; I left the constricting hallways behind and felt the wells of tears dry behind my eyes. It wouldn't be easy; in fact, it would probably be the most difficult, painful struggle I would ever face. My heart was still aching, and it all felt completely unreal, more like a nightmare than the harsh reality prodding at my soul.

I pushed open the final door with my shoulder, peeking out and squinting at the police car headlights, which were now disappearing down the street. The sight sent me reeling back into caverns of darkness and mutated memories, but I breathed deeply and held my head as high as I could. A voice was echoing inside of me, telling me my dream was tremendous, and that it would take so much to evolve into someone new. Still, in the end, I could be just another person on the street, a happy person whose greatest problem was getting to the grocery store before it closed. I'd have a life without murder and deceit, without having to strain my mind until it was ready to melt.

The sidewalk welcomed me, and the stars shown hopefully in the sky, claiming that it would all be okay.

I decided to believe them.

I had no idea how I would do it all, but I would, and though the means weren't set in stone, it didn't matter. As I gazed up at that canvas of silver and black, I could see two faces shining back at me, one kinder than I had ever seen it in life. I smiled back, so distracted that I was jerked out of my thoughts when I collided with something hard.

Staggering backwards I few feet, I lost my balance completely and hit the ground a bit painfully. I rubbed my leg with a slight cringe when an apologetic voice called out,

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry! I should have watched where I was going."

I looked up at the worried man through my mass of tousled hair, moving to stand up when he held out a hand.

"Are you alright? I'm Jake, by the way," he explained hurriedly, and I grasped the offer, using it to pull myself up.

"Iliana, and I'll be... okay."