A.N: This is it, the final chapter. I will write a sequel, but I'm going to take a break for a couple of weeks before uploading anything. Anyway I hope you like this chapter... It's hopefully not as depressing as the last one. Thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed this story, I know I wouldn't have finished this without all your encouragement. Wow, my first fanfiction has been completed... A proud moment :3

Cigarette butts lay scattered on the floor. Ash and circular burns marked every surface, dirt and clutter everywhere. Ever since Mello had gone he'd been smoking, non-stop, unable to take a breath unless it was laced with nicotine. It hurt too much to think, so he drank, even though he'd never been able to handle alcohol, never enjoying the way it clouded his mind. Suddenly, not being able to remember anything seemed very attractive.

Matt was lost. Class was just a blur, the people in it irrelevant. Nothing mattered.

It took a week before he pulled himself together. The breaking point was when Near approached him, asking him whether he would be working under him now.

The albino had stood, head cocked slightly to one side, waiting motionlessly for an answer. Matt had stared. It had taken his groggy brain a while to even understand what the younger boy had said, and it took even longer to formulate a reply. How could he work with Near, the rival who had driven Mello away? "No." The word tasted like ash on his lips.

Predictably enough, Near gave no sign of surprise or annoyance. He simply lifted one shoulder, then dropped it in a mechanical shrug. "I understand." A swift, cool appraisal. "That is unfortunate, I could have used your expertise."

You could have used me full stop, Matt thought cynically, a relatively new emotion that was quickly becoming commonplace, even if all his other emotions seemed to be muffled by layers of protective cotton wool. He said nothing, waiting until Near shuffled away.

It was mid-morning break, but he was still quite drunk, having stayed up all night smoking and drinking; never mind where he got it from, he had his ways. Now he had reached the stage where he was no longer pleasantly removed from the world, but still so out of it everything was spinning and it was hard to think. All he knew was his throat felt raw, his head was pounding, and he felt physically sick from missing Mello. Why was he here, going to classes like nothing was wrong? What was the point in studying advanced calculus, when Kira could kill them off any minute? With Mello gone, so had any attachment Matt had to Wammy's. All it held now for him were painful memories.

It was decided then. Matt nodded decisively, then regretted it, as his head felt as though it was at risk of dropping off. He made his way to the door, holding his complaining cranium, shuffling slowly.

"Matt? Is something wrong?" His teacher looked at him in alarm.

Matt almost smiled, but he was doing too well to ruin his 'plan' now. "I don't feel good." No acting was required; he was pale, sweaty and more than a little green around the gills from his on-coming hangover.

Nervously the teacher moved back, as though he feared his pupil was contagious, or about to chuck up on his expensive Italian leather shoes. "Well, go to the sick bay then."

"Yes sir." Matt pretended to look grateful, dropping the act as soon as he'd left the classroom, a calculating expression sliding easily over his features in place. Mello had another thing coming if he thought he could get rid of Matt that easily. It may take weeks, months, maybe longer, but Matt was determined to find him. This had all the hallmarks of a true 'Matt and Mello mission' - he didn't have a clue how he was going to do this, but he was determined to succeed. He would leave now, there was no time to waste! Well, maybe he could pick a few things up en-route.

Fuelled by a drunken sense of purpose, Matt headed towards their - no, his bedroom, staggering a little, disconcerted to find it was quite possible to be drunk and hungover at the same time; a horrific state he had never known existed.

Never again, he promised himself queasily, packing a few belongings into a rucksack. All he was going to take were the bare essentials; some spare underwear, two packs of fags, a torch, his Gameboy with games and spare batteries, and all his hacking equipment.

Next stop, Roger's office. While packing he had thought of something. Matt paused two corridors away, got out his mobile phone, which he'd customized to insure was untraceable, then typed in the extension number for Roger's personal line. A dialing tone, then the call was connected.

"Hello?" Roger sounded suspicious; as well he should when an unknown number phoned his supposedly very private number. Matt pressed the green call button twice, activating the voice distortion software he'd downloaded when he was bored one day. "Hello Roger, just thought I'd warn you I'm popping by for a little visit."

"Who is this? How did you -"

Matt cut off the call. He felt bad about causing Roger concern, but he really needed to get into his office, and this was the only method he could think of right now that would work. He wished he'd put on a watch, but instead he counted two minutes in his head, before continuing on to the office. Roger should have gone to check the orphanage's security right now, giving Matt approximately 15 minutes before Roger discovered the call had come from inside the building. It should be plenty of time for him to get what he needed.

Once in the office he got down to work; he was lucky, Roger had his computer logged on, with saved him a few precious minutes. Tapping at the keyboard, Matt set up a program that would scan through the computer's files, using 'Mello' and 'Matt' as trigger words. It took a few minutes for the program to look through all the data, but then it bleeped, and opened up all the relevant files.

There were masses of data; all of his and Mello's scores since they'd been at Wammy's, which in Mello's case dated back more than a decade ago. Matt quickly shut all the windows pertaining to that, which left him with two documents, containing their real names and background history. Without pausing to read through it, other than to confirm he had the right files, he clicked print, then set about deleting and shredding the data. It was possible Roger had back-up files on other computers, or even in hard copy, but it was better than nothing. Next, he accessed his bank account, transferring most of the funds to another account he quickly created, using a fake identity. It was depressingly easy to do this, when one could alter or create government records at will.

As one of L's potential heirs, he had access to a decent sum of money, but he was sure that Roger would have cut him off once the old man discovered his betrayal. By doing this, he insured himself some fiscal security, and the money would be necessary for him to track down Mello.

Once the printer had spat out the two miserly sheets covering his and Mello's histories, he left quickly, snatching them up as he passed. He hurried once out in the hallway, not wanting to be delayed by someone wanting to know why he wasn't in class, and why he had a backpack and very confidential information in his hands.

It was easy to leave the orphanage, as all the security was focused on preventing anyone from entering the orphanage secretly, rather than preventing someone from leaving. He left through the kitchens, picking up some food and water bottles on the way. He didn't even bother messing with the security cameras, as no one would be watching out for him yet; it would be awhile before his absence was noticed, and he would be well away by then.

As he left the grounds, cutting through the hedges onto a narrow country lane, Matt paused to look back at the place he had thought of as home for the past few years. Shrouded in morning fog, with his still-spinning vision, Wammy's looked like something from a dream or that he'd seen when very young and half-forgotten. He felt a pang of regret at leaving it; it had been the backdrop for some of his best and worst memories, the place where he'd first met Mello, and the place he'd lost him again.

Creeping away in the quiet of a country morning, Matt set off, following road signs and his sense of direction, hoping he'd come to a town before nightfall.

He didn't, but he did find an empty barn to sleep in, and he made himself as comfortable as possible in the scratchy hay. Munching on an apple, he took out Mello's information sheet and started to read, feeling uneasy at the invasion of privacy it seemed to constitute.

Mello had been born known as Miheal Keehl. Matt tried the name out, feeling out the unfamiliar syllables on his tongue, trying to fit them to the blond-haired boy he knew so well. It didn't work; Mello was the only name he'd ever called him, and the name Mello had shared with him. Anyway, Mello wouldn't be going under his real name, not with Kira on the loose, so it didn't particularly matter.

Most of the information on the sheet he knew already, facts like Mello's birthday and nationality. His reasons for ending up in Whammy's were something Mello had never discussed, and Matt didn't blame him after reading the notes. He parents had collapsed, from drug related overdoses; little Mihael had been found a few days after his parents died, in the same apartment as the slowly rotting corpses, once a neighbor became alarmed at the whimpers heard in the flat and called the police, thinking perhaps a dog or something had been left behind when the owners went on holiday.

Nothing had really been gained; all he knew now was there was no family Mello could be going to. Another dead end. He put the sheet back in the rucksack and settled down tiredly to sleep. When he got to a town he could start searching properly. Everyone had to leave tracks, no matter how careful they were; all he had to do was watch the Net and wait for news of a certain blond, blue-eyed tornado wrecking havoc. He was tired, and his head still hurt, but some of pain and grief had been replaced with a sense of purpose. He was not giving up. I will find you, he promised, staring silently into the shadows, and then I will make sure I never lose you again.

A.N: Poor Matt. :/ Reviews...? :D