Mello was afraid that Matt was beginning to suspect something. It wasn't that Mello was necessarily doing anything wrong at the moment, wasn't quite okay enough yet to be able to, but since the explosion, a lot had changed, and he didn't want Matt to know how badly it was really affecting him.
Ever since he'd woken up after the explosion, it was like something snapped. At first, Mello had been in shock, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to, and yet somehow he managed to find Matt. (It wasn't too hard; he'd been keeping tabs on the redhead since he'd been high enough among Mafia ranks to do so.) With an empty mind, wide eyes, and burning skin, Mello had contacted Matt, who for his part had been more helpful than Mello could have ever wished for, especially after he'd left him behind when L died.
Matt had brought Mello to a safe place, taken care of his burns, and made sure Mello was looked after. Within a few days the shock subsided, and after a week or so Mello was joking around with Matt as if he hadn't just put himself at the top of the Mafia's hit list just to keep the police from stopping him. Despite the large scar now covering nearly half his face and disappearing into his shirt, Matt looked at him the same as he always had, and respected the fact that Mello's newest feature seemed to bother him. He even occasionally tried to reassure Mello about the new pattern his flesh had adopted.
The first few weeks were supposed to be the hardest, though, or so Matt had told Mello. At first, he couldn't get a good night's sleep no matter what he did, constantly seeing the fire and the carnage whenever he closed his eyes, but then it had seemed to slow down. Mello could tell Matt had been worried when he'd kick and scream and struggle in his unconsciousness and had eyes so dark he looked like he'd smeared on too much eyeliner, so it was a relief to the both of them when the nightmares had eased up a bit. But now he was having trouble sleeping again.
It wasn't that Mello's nightmares had started coming back, because he was only getting one every few days; maybe once in a week if he was really lucky. He was just getting too deep in his thoughts late at night. Surrounded by darkness and hearing the faint sounds of Matt and whatever he'd be doing in the other room, Mello's thoughts would slip to different places. One night he kept himself awake thinking of all the lives he'd taken, either directly or indirectly. The next morning, Matt had found him staring at the ceiling, not responding to anything he'd said until half the day had gone by and he'd eventually passed out from exhaustion. He'd somehow managed to avoid letting Matt catch him like this again, but his state of mind had since begun taking a toll on him during the day as well. He'd disappear into his thoughts in the middle of simple tasks, he didn't have much of an appetite, and he was a lot more lax and lazy. Mello knew Matt had noticed his behaviour wasn't as it normally was, but he wasn't sure the gamer knew it wasn't actually from trauma or shock anymore. Some small part of Mello hoped that Matt never realized and that he managed to get back to normal soon, while another part hoped Matt clued in before too long. A third part of Mello also wished for peace from the shitfest that his life had become, but he was smart enough to know that he probably wouldn't be getting his release for a long time.
It was rare for Mello to do anything other than to devour a chocolate bar the second it was handed to him; the fact that Matt had handed him his first fix of chocolate for the day nearly an hour ago and Mello was still nibbling on it was the first red flag in his mind. It had, after all, been the first indicator when Matt figured out about the nightmares, too. Matt also thought back to that day about a week and a half ago where he'd found Mello awake at five in the morning, hidden somewhere behind his eyes and unresponsive to Matt's words. It had scared him a bit, made him worry for his friend; he'd never seen Mello like that before, and a small, selfish part of him wished he wouldn't have to see him like that ever again.
As the day progressed, Matt tried to subtly watch Mello for some sign of what was affecting the blonde. He noticed how sluggish Mello seemed, on top of the not eating. He just nestled himself into the couch and didn't move unless he absolutely needed to, and his chocolate bar had since been left on the floor by his head, mostly uneaten. When it was half past noon and Matt was finally hungry enough to tear himself away from his latest hacking job, he made Mello some hot chocolate and a sandwich, both of which also remained mostly untouched, though he eventually began nibbling on the chocolate bar again. By the evening the sandwich was gone and the chocolate mostly finished, and Matt took notice of how Mello seemed lost in space again. Matt didn't try to break him out of it, figured he wouldn't be able to since he hadn't last time, and resumed his work.
Somehow, by pure fluke or pure luck Matt wasn't sure, he managed to finish what he was doing at a reasonable time; it was barely past ten thirty. He crossed to the other side of the room where Mello had apparently dozed off on the couch, and shook his shoulder lightly (his right shoulder; the unburned one. Matt was aware that Mello wasn't exactly pleased with his scar), waking him.
"Let's get to bed." He said. Mello nodded blearily, remnants of his light sleep still there.
When Mello had called Matt, he'd been unprepared to have anyone staying with him. His ratty little place had only one bed, and his couch was so old and worn it was a bit of a miracle Mello had managed to doze off while laying on it. Matt himself rarely ever slept in his bed, as his job and love of video games made for a rather inexistant sleep cycle, so Mello had taken over the bed for the duration of his stay so far, with Matt crashing in his computer chair whenever his eyelids got too heavy. Tonight though, he decided he'd sleep in the bed with Mello, partly because he wanted to try and keep an eye on the blonde, and partly because he could use some proper rest for once. His chair wasn't exactly comfortable.
Mello seemed surprised as Matt climbed into bed next to him. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice slightly tired-sounding.
"Going to sleep. The chair isn't exactly comfortable." Matt offered. Mello didn't object, simply turned onto his side, facing away from Matt. Matt followed his example, turning so they were back to back and trying to ignore the slight warmth in his cheeks.
Mello, for his part, could feel his heart hammering away in his chest. It wasn't the first time he and Matt had shared a bed, they'd done so quite a few times back at Wammy's, but this was different. They were older now, more mature, and up until a few weeks ago they hadn't spoken in years. Mello slightly regretted having left Matt behind at Wammy's back then, had almost gone back on that very night just to get him, but hadn't. He hadn't gone back because he'd been scared of Matt's reaction, scared of the feelings he didn't know how name at the time, scared of being caught and forced to stay.
It took Mello nearly a year after he'd left Wammy's to figure out what it was he felt for Matt. At first he thought he was just fond of his friend; he'd been the only person Mello could stand for most of his life, but he'd eventually realized it went deeper than that. Most people didn't constantly think of their friend years after they'd left, or wondered what it would be like to kiss them or fall asleep next to them every night.
That was another thing. Mello had never really slept beside someone like this other than with Matt. Sure, he'd slept with a lot of people, either for information or to get higher among Mafia ranks; even a couple times just to get his mind of things, but he'd never really slept beside someone just because like this. As kids, he and Matt only shared a bed when one had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep alone again. As kids, it had been completely innocent. As adults, it made his chest hurt and his ears burn.
Mello hadn't realized he'd been slipping into his thoughts again until he felt a finger dig into his back, between his shoulder blades. Mello had noticed Matt took care to try not to touch his scar, but he wasn't exactly sure why. Maybe it was Matt acknowledging Mello's disdain towards it, maybe it was something else. He tried not to question it too much.
"Mello, I know you're still awake." Matt said. Damn, he was good.
"I'll miss the way that you saw me," Mello blurted, "or maybe the way I saw myself."
There were several different responses Matt could have gone with, but instead he used his brain and went with, "what do you mean?"
"I don't know," Mello admitted, now lying on his back and turning his head to look at Matt. He could just barely make out Matt's confused expression. "Just go back to sleep, I'll be fine."
"It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway."
The two remained silent for a while after that. Mello wasn't sure if Matt had fallen asleep or not until he spoke up again.
"Are you alright, Mello?" Mello almost lied to him, but knew there was a good chance Matt would know he wasn't being truthful.
"Not really." Mello admitted. "I guess I've just been thinking too much lately."
Both of them knew it would be pointless for Matt to suggest Mello stop thinking so much. They both grew up in a place that encouraged thinking and overthinking things, so they weren't exactly experienced in turning off their thoughts.
Matt thought back to when he and Mello were younger. When one of them couldn't sleep, they'd shared a bed or talked until they couldn't keep their eyes open any longer. Matt had spent many nights awake just talking, and on several occasions had even lost his voice the next morning because of it, just on the off chance of getting Mello to sleep. He wondered if something similar would work with Mello now.
"I tried to go after you, when you first left." Matt hadn't noticed when Mello had turned back onto his side, but the older man turned to face his red headed counterpart as he spoke softly in the depths of the night. "I had planned every last detail of how I'd leave; from hacking the security system to jumping out the bedroom window and running for the fence. I didn't make it, though. The window was too high; broke my leg and screamed so loud even Roger woke up.
"He wissed up after that. Kept an eye on me and made it clear I wasn't leaving until he let me. I spent the next year and a half trying to convince him to let me go after you, and in my downtime I tried to track you down. I got some clues, not too much. By the time I left I knew you were in the states, but not much more than that."
Mello had his eyes closed, but Matt knew he wasn't asleep quite yet. He smiled a bit to himself before he continued.
"California was just a guess, really. I took a bunch of hacking jobs, some maybe a bit less than legal, and once I had enough cash I closed my eyes and pointed on a map. Brought me straight to Anaheim, and then I got a hit on you in Coronado. It took me a bit too long to realize you weren't there, though.
"I followed the money after that, and if I asked a few questions, no one really gave a shit. I bounced around, and I made money, and left to follow a bigger pay load. Someone kept dropping me hints about you, but I found you among the Mafia. I noticed you climbing the ranks bit by bit, making your way to the top, but I could never zero in on you. I realize now you were probably trying to keep me out of it.
"I almost caught you once, too. Tracked you all the way to the Silicon Valley, but you always were one step ahead of me. And not too long after I almost caught you, my luck ran dry, along with my funds. Couldn't even afford to buy myself any cigarettes if I wanted food."
Mello's lack of response was enough for Matt to know he was either asleep or close to being completely asleep. He wasn't quite ready to stop quite then, though.
"I was on the last of my funds when another job came through. Low level stuff for some bigwig organization. Then another came in once the first was done, and another, and another. Always a different guy, always low-level stuff, but enough to live off of. Eventually I started getting underground work again, and a few different organizations got interested. Decided it'd be best to have me on their payroll.
"I turned them all down because they weren't your organization. I even got a call from your buddy Rod Ross, and I swear, if I'd known you worked with him I probably would've said yes. I'm sorta glad I didn't know, though. Probably wouldn't be here if I had.
"And then not too long after, your stupid ass called me asking for help. I almost hung up on you; almost didn't even answer. It had been so long and only then did you decide to try to contact me. But I didn't say anything, didn't hang up, just listened, and went where you told me to. I didn't think you'd try to blow yourself up. I was so pissed that you got hurt, almost lectured you right there in the car before anything else, but I knew you needed help, so I brought you here. God knows how much I talked and ranted while I wrapped up your burns; I almost expected you to slap me. I don't know if I'm thankful or not that you didn't."
By now, Mello was fast asleep. Matt dared to think he almost looked peaceful. He also knew that whatever he said next, Mello wouldn't hear him. As long as he didn't have any nightmares, nothing would wake him up for at least another four hours.
"I should probably be mad at you for everything. For leaving, and for trying to steer me in the wrong direction. Hell, I should be furious, but I'm not. I haven't completely forgiven you either, but I'm getting there, because damn, Mello, you make my heart hurt. Just thinking about how you're here, safe and sound, fills my chest with fucking butterflies. I hate it and love it in the same way I both hate and love you, and God, the only reason I can say this at all is because you can't fucking hear me, because I'm that scared. I've never been scared of you before; this is a new think for me, and even though I'm technically getting this off my chest I still feel like I'm going crazy and every possibly-existing diety there is that I don't have to say this to your face right now." Only the sound of Mello's even breathing met Matt's ears once his voice died down. With burning ears and a courage he didn't know he'd had, he mustered up, "I love you, Mello, you fucking idiot."
Only silence met his ears, and Matt didn't know if it made him feel better or worse.