and you were always crazy-- there's something about you that I knew so well;

[creampuffedly.livejournal.com]

WHO: Anezaki Mamori [creampuffedly] & Mello [phallboy]
WHERE: In Mello's car, on the way back to his place.
WHEN: March 12th, 2009
WARNINGS: Mello? This is likely going to be tragic.
SUMMARY: Duo called. Time for Mello to push away the one thing keeping him stable.
FORMAT: para


They could both use the break, she knew that much. So dragging Mello off to the beach for a few days couldn't possibly be such a bad idea, right? They were having such a good time, too.

Then Shinigami had called him, just as they were headed back in.

Why was it that everything had to explode now? The porter was in danger-- tentatively-- something had happened with the toxins, apparently, though she wasn't entirely sure about the details therein-- and now Sena had showed up. She'd garnered that much from his conversation with Shinigami.

Sena. Of all people.

Of course, now Hiruma had his hands on him and she couldn't even say that he was in the wrong to take Sena in, she'd simply not been there.

Sena'd be okay. He'd be okay. He'd be okay. She was considering, of course, the general safety of keeping Sena at Mello's place, for now-- how had Hiruma found out about that, anyway?-- though the second Mello was off the phone, the mood in the car had invariably shifted to something far more bleak and somber.

A part of her wasn't sure she wanted to know why.

Comments

[phallboy.livejournal.com]

His knuckles were white on the wheel, he was going a good twenty miles over the speed limit, foot pressing down on the gas pedal for a good twenty meters and then just letting them coast, foot down and coast. Putting Mamori in danger, but did it really matter in the long run? No matter what she was, she was stuck here, just like he was, and she'd be corrupted in the end.

They were all stuck. In their own shit. Iron Man's fucking robot, the most fucked-up soap opera in the history of time and space, some bastard junk metal mooning after its creator from a couple worlds over and just taking people, taking and taking and taking until -

Knuckles white, he drove straight.

There's nothing to tell. That's what Duo had said. Nothing to tell. He'd thought they'd be going home, he'd be able to put all of that behind him - the mistakes and the weirdness with him, the good and the bad stuff, that would be gone. He could just do what he had to do and be done with it.

But he was stuck. Alone.

He wanted to be alone.

"Mamori," he heard himself say, as if distanced from himself. Somewhere else, listening through a speaker, maybe, in one of those rooms they have in police stations, the kind with the one-way mirror. He could see himself talking, but he couldn't see himself watching.

"Mamori," he said again, after a pause. "Where's Matt staying right now?"

[creampuffedly.livejournal.com]

Where Mello was going down a dangerous mental road, negative and bitter and horrible, Mamori tried to remain positive, as always. Optimistic and bright and positive most of the time, even in the face of all they were facing now, it was really the only way to cope.

Of course, expecting the same of him was... like waiting for a miracle.

So she didn't expect anything from him. Did she ever? She had just wanted him to be happy for a few days. And maybe she'd achieved that, but--

At what cost?

She'd only made things worse.

Where she couldn't be pessimistic and bitter like Mello, she blamed herself for it. Rather her than anyone else.

His words almost surprised her-- she expected him to remain dead silent throughout the drive, later locking himself into his room and doing whatever it was that Mello did there, only to reemerge later to have dinner.

That'd be a good distraction, anyway. It'd be okay.

But his words-- though harmless so far-- spoke of something else forthcoming.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was.

"... the MAC. Why?" she asked very slowly, hands nervous in her lap as she tried to will her stomach to stop aching.

[phallboy.livejournal.com]

Well. At least Mamori knew where he was. That meant he probably wasn't dead.

Yet.

Optimism was out of the question. The gap between what should have been and what was had reached such breadth that there was no point in trying anymore. Even escapism hadn't worked, though he'd been so reluctant to go, with everything going on - with Crane and Iron Man and Near doing whatever the hell he'd been doing recently - and Mello all the while losing it, losing focus more with every day.

And he'd . . . gone to the beach. Granted, he'd been dragged, browbeaten, more or less bribed. But he'd gone anyway. He'd wasted his time. Not that he blamed Mamori; it was more or less impossible. How could he blame someone perfect? He blamed himself, of course. For weakness. Growing weakness. In part due to the City itself, in part due to . . . something else, whatever it was.

Either way, it had to stop. Had to be cut off at the pass.

He turned onto the main highway, the last stretch of road before they entered the City, and eased up on the gas, just slightly over the speed limit now - though he could be running so much faster, what would he be running towards?

"I'm going to need you to stay with him for a couple days."

His voice was blank, emotionless. As it should be. He'd always been too emotional, after all.

[creampuffedly.livejournal.com]

Yet.

She couldn't have known. He hadn't told her the news, and there was nothing she could say, not knowing, that could fix things. She couldn't cheer him up without knowing what the matter was.

Which likely included more backstory on his part than he was willing to share, regardless.

Leaving her, consequently, at a strange impasse, her hands tied and unable to do anything.

Not knowing the story, she was only able to do so much.

Knowing the story, what else could she have done?

But then he spoke again and she felt something inside of her freeze, swallowing hard as she blinked over at him, not really sure what to do with herself now at all.

"I... why?" she asked him, trying to blink away tears of the inevitable she should have really seen coming. Could have seen coming. Had seen. The seat under her restless fingers suddenly felt more real than it had before, and she stared down into her lap.

Her mind was racing ten million directions-- she couldn't ask that of Matt, for starters, couldn't go back to an already crowded apartment with Hiruma and Sena; where was he sleeping anyway, if there wasn't any space he couldn't be comfortable at all, would he be all right, there was no way Hiruma was treating him properly, but at the same time, who else could she stay with? Eve, yes, Eve maybe, but not Matt, not Hiruma, not Mello, why not Mello-- but the latter was the only thing she could focus on for now. Where had she gone wrong?

[phallboy.livejournal.com]

Why.

God, there were so many reasons.

Because she couldn't stay with him anymore. Because she wouldn't be able to deal with what was coming, the storm he could feel and couldn't control, what would happen to him without the hope of going home - she didn't need that.

He didn't know why, or when it had happened, but Mamori was important to him now. The last person who was important to him wound up with lead in his lungs bleeding out in the street. Mello wasn't a person you got close to without repercussions.

He would not allow Mamori to die because of him. Or be hurt. It wasn't going to happen.

That was the first reason.

And because he was angry and couldn't take it anymore, the mothering and the attention. He just couldn't deal with it. Being with somebody else twenty-four/seven, nothing but pure unadulterated fucking decency so that it felt like it covered his walls and ceiling. It was too much to deal with.

And because of Duo. But that was really the last thing, the final straw.

None of it was Mamori's fault. There was a threshold that had been reached, and Mello knew it.

Maybe he should have wondered why he knew it when usually he didn't until it had been passed already. But for the moment he had to figure out how to answer her.

He'd always found terse to be best.

"I have to be alone right now," he said, his voice level, though perhaps a bit lower than usual. "And you need to be with Sena or - whatever you're figuring out. I can't have some other random person in my - "

Gritting his teeth, he lowered his head slightly. No. Not the way he wanted to do this. When did everything get so fucking dramatic?

"There are a couple of things that I have to do and they have to be done alone," he said after a long moment. And it was a lie, or at least a half-lie. He had things to do, yeah. Like figure out what to do. What the hell was supposed to happen now?

[creampuffedly.livejournal.com]

This wasn't really happening.

There was no way Mello was really doing this-- not when he knew-- had to know-- what it meant. Because even Mamori, in the far reaches of the back of her mind, was fully aware of the fact that he, on some subconscious, incredibly repressed level, needed her.

Needed her like air, right now.

Taking her out of the picture would likely only have him crumbling. Mamori knew that.

Yet she couldn't do anything but sit there, staring feebly out the window, hands trembling as small fingers clung to the fabric of the seat cushion under her thighs, watching the houses and occasional landmark pass by them.

Was this what he saw? A trembling girl who couldn't stand up for herself, who couldn't assert herself in any position-- especially not the ones that involved her friends? The people dear to her?

... the people she was dear to?

Did he think her so weak?

The tears in her eyes answered her own question, and she blinked and stared straight back at him. She wasn't about to just let him go, no-- dammit.

"I'm some random person to you, then," she said slowly, willing her voice to stop shaking. "I don't care what you think, but you need me right now. And Sena is obviously quite fine with Hiruma for the time being, and I'm not about to abandon you. Even if you think I'm--" she swallowed her manifested pain down again-- "just another random person in your house."

Her knuckles were turning white, she knew, but if she stopped holding on, her hands would be trembling so hard he'd be able to tell out of the corner of his eyes, even staring out the window.

"I'm sorry if I've overstayed my welcome. But I didn't know that you couldn't... do these things. That... have to be done-- with my presence in the house. I can leave for a few hours, if you'd like, but--"

Well, she'd never present it in a way that would make her seem dependent on him. She'd never lord that over his head, even if she had no place to go-- well, she supposed Eve would let her stay, quite likely, that would do--

But at the same time, she couldn't just...

"If you really want me to go, I'll go. But I--"

Don't think you want that. Don't want that. Don't want you to want that.

"... don't think you'd be making the right decision."

[phallboy.livejournal.com]

His white knuckles gripped the steering with; he grit his teeth and glared straight ahead. He would not lose his temper with her. Or at least he'd fucking try not to - but what was to be done? She was acting like this was personal, and it wasn't. Or if it was then it was for her own good. Was that so hard to understand?

He was tired of this. Dealing with people. He needed out of it, away from the people who just did things because they thought it would be good or nice or helpful - the selfless and illogical people in this city who were so much worse than those who killed for no reason. Murderers, at least, had their own logic, skewed as it might be. Mamori didn't.

Quatre didn't.

Duo . . .

Mello couldn't ever tell if he had logic or didn't, followed any specific pattern or didn't. He was too unpredictable.

But that wasn't the issue at the moment, was it? Mamori was twisting his words and making it seem as tough he was trying to - he didn't know, like he was doing this because it was fun. He growled quietly as they drove through the outskirts of the City.

Why did he even care?

"It's not a question of what I want," he spat between his teeth, and then, after some consideration, added, "Mamori. The fact is that it is necessary." He glanced sideways at her for the briefest moment, then back at the road. His voice was quiet and calm, uncharacteristically so, when he spoke again. "You're packing when we get back. And you're leaving. And that's the end of it. So quit trying to argue."

[creampuffedly.livejournal.com]

He was angry.

Naturally, really, she always made things like this happen, didn't she? Most of the time she could just fix it, even if he was always just upset about stupid things like her going out of her way for this or that, but it was never... it was never like this.

In the past, if he'd had a problem with her, he'd judge her and yell at her and then go about his business. They were never in the same place at the same time; save perhaps for their first meeting, though that was a wholly different incident altogether--

If she knew Mello any less, she'd be have been scared of him right now.

It wasn't that she thought that this was fun for him, it was... well, it was personal. It was...

If he really cared about their friendship, he wouldn't do this. Or maybe if he was less of an idiot. He couldn't see a way out here. Must like how he couldn't see the positive in most situations, couldn't see the good in anyone or anything, really, here he couldn't stop and think logically for a second and consider anyone else's position, their feelings...

But it didn't matter, regardless, right?

The words resonated through her head like an echo, something she didn't want to hear that forced itself again in turn, just to be cruel. Tears she didn't want to shed blurred her vision again, and she blinked, fighting the urge to stare out the window and turning to look at him.

"I said I'd go. I don't know why you're being defensive. I don't think this is the right decision, but that won't stop me from complying with what you think you--" What he thought he wanted, right?

"If you don't want it, why do I have to go? If you want me to stay, why can't I?"

She didn't want to argue, but his logic was flawed (did she want it to be flawed?), and this was important to her. She'd battled Hiruma on more minor issues before, after all--

When had everything become so serious?

/fails at this tag =A=

[phallboy.livejournal.com]

Suddenly he felt sick. Just - sick of all of this. Dealing with people. He couldn't do it anymore.

"Because I'm done. Okay?" he snapped. "Now just sh--"

He stopped, breathing hard.

"Just don't, okay?" he bit out, his tone low and barely restrained. "Just don't."

He didn't want to say anything that he'd regret. Anything else he'd regret.