Bruised and broken
This wasn’t supposed to happen – this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. Never had he wanted him to end up like this. They had decided to end the business of this mafia gang, as they knew that – even if it was just the two of them – they could make an end to it.
He had lost Matt for a moment, the party had broken out into panic as they had entered the building and had approached the first member. He though he would find him later again, safe and sound, probably complaining about how tiring it was and wishing they would just give in. How it was more something for Mello to do this. Yes, Mello had pictured it all in his head. Sadly… every plan he made up didn’t seem to follow the exact same plan.
He approached Matt, who was sitting in the corner, and swallowed. Kneeling down, he leant forward, trying to make eye contact with the other. He himself had some bruises, maybe a cut or two, and was covered with some blood of his enemies. Other than that, he was perfectly fine. “Matt…? Matt what… happened?” He was simply glad that everyone had left the building already – or was dead… but they had to get out of there soon as well. “Who did this to you?”
You would think that after years of getting into trouble, Matt would have learnt that rolling along with Mello’s plans – plans that had grown more and more dangerous as time passed – wasn’t a good idea. Mello’s plans were shit and even if they weren’t they went to shit and one of them would end up getting burnt.
Matt let out a soft hiss through gritted teeth. Fuck, breathing hurt and not just because he had split his lower lip and had probably broken his nose. He could feel shoe print shaped bruises forming across his torso; could still feel the feet kicking dents into his ribs. He dug his fingers into his arms and pulled himself tightly together, as though making himself as small as humanly possible would make things better.
Smoking would hurt like a bitch for the next week or so.
What happened? Matt snorted, regretting it instantly as he tasted a fresh wave of blood in his mouth. He grimaced. Like an utter moron he’d gotten himself in the middle of way too many guys way bigger than him and had gotten the shit beaten out of him. Like it wasn’t fucking obvious.
“…I dunno, a bunch of these guys,” he let go of himself for long enough to wave in the direction of a mafia thug lying in a puddle of blood only a few feet away from them. “Dunno where they went, but they got the hell outta here once I managed to stick a knife into a few of ‘em.”
