Wammy boys reacting to their S/O being seriously injured during the Kira investigation?
It’s been a million years since I’ve written for Death Note, but I got you.
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Mihael “Mello” Keehl
It took every part of him to focus on clenching and unclenching his gloved hands. He kept them stiff next to his sides, forcing himself to realize there was nothing he could do right now. Nothing. You were in your hospital bed, unconscious, an IV line drawn from your arm to the bag of fluids above you, unresponsive. Nothing he could do would fix you now.
But, god, did his hands itch for revenge. So he didn’t have to look at you like this ever again. So he didn’t have to feel so scared ever again. So he didn’t have to face the emotions that were raging through his head that he didn’t understand. He had never felt like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
“Mello…”
His head snapped back over to you, but your eyes were still closed, your body unmoving. You must be dreaming. Maybe having nightmares, if he’s there with you. He grimaced and grabbed your hand, trying to force himself to calm the fuck down so he could stay with you a little bit longer.
Maybe he could finish this before you wake up. So you didn’t have to come back to such a messed up world.
Mail “Matt” Jeevas
“I’m sorry I messed up so bad, Y/N.”
One of his hands held his head up, his elbow digging into his knee. The other hand clutched yours like his life depended on it.
“I told you to stay away from me. Look at you now.”
Somehow it was easier to blame himself. You were the first tangible thing he cared about. The first person, besides Mello, that he ever wanted to get close to. But now he couldn’t even look at you. It was unbearable. He let you down, he let you get hurt.
“I thought I was so fucking smart. Turns out, I’m just another idiot. You can’t trust me.”
He hoped that his words were reaching you, even if it was just part of them. He wanted you to know how sorry he was. He wanted you to know it was a mistake. He wouldn’t let it happen again. If you would give him another chance.
Nate “Near” Rivers
At least it was peaceful here. Bright hospital walls, pure white light eliminating all shadows. It was comforting to him until he saw the smear of color laying on the hospital bed.
He knew it was coming. The risk was always too high, but he never stopped you. It wasn’t often he felt regret. But a sliver of it stabbed at his throat as he looked at you in your medicine-induced slumber.
It wasn’t lost to him that this was the first time he was alone with you. He took small, careful steps toward you, his hand outstretched until it ghosted over your forehead, brushing against the small hairs that lay there. No reaction.
He let his hand fall back to his side, feeling something bubbling underneath his skin. Something between want and need, wanting to see you again, needing you in his life. He couldn’t dwell on it as he heard the door open behind him.
“Near, we must leave.”
He was still needed elsewhere but he briefly wondered what the future held, when Kira was caught and you had healed. He slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers easily finding two cool metallic dice that normally helped keep his mind calm, but now he was leaving them here on your bedside table.
He needed you to know that he was here.