[Again, he's tossing and turning, and the thick scent of stale alcohol stings his nose a bit; it's filled the room for the past two days, because that's all Matt can stand to do anymore, is just drink, sleep, and drink some more. He's not proud of it, but he can't really get himself to be ashamed, either.
What little sleep he's gotten has been filled with nightmares, dark and bleak and frightening in more than one way. Mostly of his death, of Harry Gold, that slick, horrible monster in the proverbial closet from his childhood, and, of course, of Mello's disappearance.
That's where Matt finds himself on the fourth day without his Mello - dead asleep, running trapped down the hallways of a dream that will never let him catch up to that elusive blond. He kicks out, whimpering a little before stilling for a while; in his drunken haze, he left the door cracked open a bit - another show of how little he cares about his own well-being currently.]