A young man walks into a bar.
Sounds like the beginning of a joke doesn't it? Well, I assure you this young man was no laughing matter.
Everything about him was violent- his eyes were violently blue, his hair was violently blonde, and his hatred of the world was violently apparent. The bar was empty, save for the two boys behind the counter cleaning mugs, so he took a seat at the counter.
"What'll you have?" asked the taller of the two, a genial-looking redhead. His black and white plaid shirt accentuated his muscular chest, which was the only thing that kept the blonde from robbing the bartenders blind and running. It'd be a suicide mission to try and take down a guy that toned in his current state.
But at the same time, right now he welcomed the idea of death.
"Scotch on the rocks" the blonde replied, ignoring the onslaught of memories that came with that drink.
A raven-haired beauty, his grey eyes shining happily, the blonde's own fingertips reaching out to brush the man's pink mouth. Goldilocks the man would always call him as he touched the fingertips resting on his lips, and the blonde would always laugh and remind him that his hair may be golden, but it wasn't curly, and he'd never slept with a bear before… The blonde shook his head to rid himself of the memories fluttering around like so many butterflies.
The younger man, a pale angel of a boy, his hair a white halo, with solemn grey eyes and a mild-mannered face handed the blonde his drink and asked him what people called him. The blonde gave him a grim smile.
"If I had friends, they'd probably call me pathetic, but as it stands people just call me crazy. If my name is what you're after, you and the ginger can call me Mello."
'The ginger' in question extended his hand to Mello. "I'm Matt, and my partner is Near."
"Near what?" Mello questioned. The white-haired boy grimaced.
"Just Near," he said before beginning to sweep the floor. Near hummed to himself as he swept, his voice a soprano lilt as the first strains of the children's tune "Mister Moon" escaped his throat. Mello's hand trembled as he reached for his glass and downed what was left of his scotch. The burning sensation that followed kept the sob from escaping his throat, but Near noticed Mello's agonized expression anyway.
"Not your favorite song, Mello?"
"No. It's just…that was the last song I heard before I…ran away." Mello faltered over the explanation, savoring the lie as it left his mouth. He let out a sigh of relief when both Matt and Near turned back to their tasks rather than asking him what he had run away from.
Mello let himself slip into another hazy reverie while the barkeeps tended to their closing-up-shop rituals.
"Are you Mihael Keehl?" the detective at the door had asked.
"Yes, I'm Mihael Keehl," Mello had replied archly "Why are you here?"
The young detective introduced himself as Touta Matsuda, said he was a colleague of Mello's flat mate, said Mello's flat mate had died earlier that evening, been gunned down in the process of rescuing a young girl from a serial kidnapper. Detective Matsuda had told Mello his flat mate had died a hero's death. Mello's only response was a choked "fuck you" before shutting the door in Touta Matsuda's concerned face.
Mello was brought back to the bar by the sound of a Zippo clinking shut. He turned to find himself alone and face-to-face with Matt. Matt wordlessly handed Mello a tissue while sucking in a long pull from his cigarette. Mello hadn't even realized he was crying. Matt's cigarette hung limply between his lips while he talked and refilled Mello's glass.
"Near decided to turn in early. Business is always pretty slow on Sundays, and it's almost 5 am now, so I don't see anybody else coming in before we close."
Mello responded with a weak "Oh."
"What was his name?" Matt asked Mello in a quiet voice.
"Whose name?"
"Your reason for running, and leaving puddles on my bar."
Mello smiled softly and sipped his scotch. "His name was Lawliet."
Matt looked perturbed. "Was?"
Mello decided the easiest response was just going to be an explanation. He told Matt all about Lawliet, his flat mate, his lover, his Mister Moon. His breath hitched and the waterworks started up all over again when he relayed the circumstances of Lawliet's death as they were described to him by Detective Matsuda. Mello ended his story and swiped angrily at his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, ignoring the fact that salt-water damages leather.
"Did the girl make it out alive?" Matt asked cautiously.
"Of course she made it out! Without a fucking scratch on her!" Mello snarled. His voice ran deep with anguish and fury. "Why shouldn't little Sandra Suburb get to go home to her family? Why should they have to suffer while I sit in this fucking rats' warren in some town I'd never heard of until I walked into it! It'sa goddamned fairy tale and I guess I'm the wolf…." Mello trailed off drunkenly.
"I understand that you are upset" Matt began evenly "but that is no reason to insult me or my establishment."
"Oh, you're right. Of course. I just lost the only person who has ever cared about me, and I should clearly be apologizing to you. Forgive my impudence and my intrusion, DoorMatt, and thanks for the booze. I'll be going now."
Mello toppled off of his barstool and chucked money on the counter. Matt scooped him up just as he started weaving toward the door.
"You're not leaving in this state, Mello."
Mello giggled. "Better a state of drunkenness than a state of denial. Or the state of Indiana. Where are you taking me Mattrix? Down the rabbit hole?"
Matt muttered something about biting off more than he could chew before telling Mello he was carrying him upstairs to a spare room to sleep off the scotch.
"Once you've disposed of me properly, are you planning to go have your way with your darling albino partner?" Mello asked, giving Matt a completely disarming smile. When Mello smiled, he was a force of nature, bringing butterflies and hurricanes to Matt's stomach. Matt managed to derail this train of thought just before everything went South, and brought himself back to the pseudo-question at hand.
Matt helped Mello undress and get into bed while he stumbled over an answer. "What? No. Near is practically my brother. He's not my flat mate in the way Lawliet was yours. At the risk of sounding cliché, we're just friends."
"Oh. Hey Matt? I'm sorry I was a jerk earlier. Is it ok if I stay here for a while? I dun really have anywhere else to go."
The question, delivered in Mello's current rapid-fire style of statement, caught Matt completely off-guard. Mello took his shocked expression as a no, and immediately launched into his defense.
"It'd only be for a while, and I'll work in the bar with you and Near. I'm really good at mixing drinks and dealing with people. I won't be a dead beat I promise."
Yes. Yes. GOD yes, you can stay. In fact, you can stay forever. I'll accept rent in the form of kisses, Matt thought. "I'll talk it over with Near" he said. Mello smiled again before rolling over so he was facing the wall. Matt shut the door and leaned against it. He wasn't sure what to make of the heart-broken, heart-breaking agent of chaos he had just tucked in. All he knew was that he'd need to guard his heart carefully if Near said Mello could stay, which he invariably would, being Near and therefore being incapable of inhospitable behavior. Matt pushed himself off of the doorframe and walked into his room, closing his blinds against the early morning sunlight. He shucked off his clothes and collapsed into bed.
Matt had just begun to drift when he heard Mello singing softly. The last thing Matt heard before he fell asleep was Mister Moon, Moon, bright and shiny moon, please shine down on me….
Near sat in his room twirling a piece of his hair absently around his fingers. He listened to Mello singing and smiled. He had known the second the leather-clad lost boy rumbled into the bar like a storm-cloud that Matt wouldn't let him walk back out. He was glad Mello was going to stay. With an extra person around, there will be more time for puzzles, Near thought. He sighed contentedly before falling back to sleep.