Author's Note: So a couple of months ago, I requested some one-word prompts as a way to get over a touch of writer's block. It didn't work as well as I would have liked, but I have been plugging away at them between chapters of Secret Admirer… I wanted to do them in the order that they were received (which would mean that "Kitten" would be the first story), but this one just kind of exploded out of me one day and I really wanted to post it so that I could actually have the satisfaction of posting a finished product. ^^; So, here we are! Request from TheDarkestOne—"Sanity." Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Jon Snow.

Sanity

Everyone always said that Mello was crazy, but Matt knew the truth: he was just the only thing that made sense in this fucked up world.

That was why Matt had latched onto him so firmly at Wammy's House, that viper's nest that they called a school or an orphanage or whatever it was supposed to be masquerading as… though to be sure, it had taken a bit of time. When Matt had first arrived at the House, everyone, student and teacher alike, had told him to stay away from the resident blond psychopath, that he was dangerous, volatile. For a while, Matt had listened—after all, they had been there longer, surely they would know, right? To be sure, the first time those ice blue eyes had turned their glare on him, making his stomach go cold and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the stories had all seemed true enough. And the first time Mello had gone on a rampage, ranting and raving and throwing things because he'd been beaten again by a kid two years his junior and half his size, Matt thought that they must be true. They had to be. What other explanation could there be?

But it was around that same time that he had also started to notice something else, something strange and confusing. Those same children who had been so nice to him when he'd first arrived now looked at him with resentment and bitterness in their eyes, even as they smiled and congratulated him on his scores—third place, just one spot below that terrifying blond. A spot of honor. A spot to be envied.

For a while, he had tried to convince himself that he was imagining things—the whispers that stopped whenever he entered a room, the forced, plastic smiles that reminded him of those creepy puppets that ventriloquists used—but he could never shake the feeling that something was off, wrong.

The day he came back to his room to find his gaming system thoroughly trashed, he realized that it wasn't just his imagination. He realized then that the denizens of Wammy's House were all masters in the subtle arts of deception and sabotage, just as much as they were masters in math and sciences and languages. They were brilliant, and they were ruthless, and they had deemed Matt a threat, something to be eliminated. Matt, never one for confrontation, began to consider giving up, ready to fade safely into the background where no one would target him. After all, what did he care for status? He had never wanted to be a detective, anyway. He'd much rather be safe, accepted, even if that required him to become less than what he was.

But then Mello had made his entrance into Matt's world.

And Mello, unlike the rest of Wammy's House, was decidedly not subtle.

Matt had jumped halfway out of his skin when a brunet head was slammed onto the cafeteria table in front of him, held down by a deceptively delicate-looking hand attached to a slender, pale arm. Behind the protective shield of his goggles, Matt's eyes followed the line of that arm up to find ice-blue eyes burning with rage beneath a fringe of yellow hair. The other boy was glaring at his victim, his teeth bared in an animalistic snarl, and for a moment Matt wondered if Mello even knew he was there.

"Tell him," the blond growled, his voice deadly and even. Matt blinked, turning his own gaze to the trembling brunet. His name was Rhode and he was a year or two Matt's senior, but wide-eyed with terror as he was, he seemed much younger.

"T-tell what?" he stammered pathetically, and Mello twitched, pressing the boy's face harder against the table. "Ah! Fuck, okay, okay! I'm sorry I broke your system, man. Now will you call off the fucking attack dog?"

Wrong thing to say, apparently. Mello's hand tightened in Rhode's hair and dragged him up, only to turn and slam him into the wall.

"Look, asshat," he said, and though Matt couldn't see his face, he could hear the malice dripping from every word. "Just because you're too much of a fucking retard to hack it here doesn't mean you have a right to fuck with the people who actually have more than two brain cells to rub together. Got it?"

Rhode nodded frantically, and Mello dropped him just a moment before one of the teachers rushed into the room, drawn by the excited chatter of the other students who had been watching the drama unfold. Mello, for his part, just gave the too-late adult a too-sweet smile, even as the other boy fled on shaking legs, and Matt had to grin.

To his surprise, Mello then sauntered back over to Matt's table, claiming one of the normally empty seats for his own.

"So," he said as he reached over and casually stole one of Matt's chips, "what do you think? Do I need to beat him down a bit more, or has he learned his lesson?"

Matt blinked, uncertain of how to proceed. "Was he really the one who destroyed my system?" he blurted out after a moment, wincing as Mello gave him an incredulous look.

"Seriously?" the blond asked. "Shit. For third in the class, you're kind of dumb, aren't you?"

And Matt had laughed, longer and harder than the situation warranted while Mello looked on uncomfortably before shaking his head and muttering "Nut job" under his breath. Matt didn't care, though. He was just so damn relieved to finally have someone talk straight to him, be real with him, with no bullshit or lies, and even if he was kind of an asshole, it was wonderful.

In that moment, Matt had chosen Mello and his craziness over the rest of the world's purported normalcy.

The next few years were the best of Matt's very fucked up life. He found his place in the world as Mello's loyal sidekick, alternately being protected by him and keeping him from losing his temper and doing something stupid… well, stupider than usual, at any rate. The teachers all appreciated it, he was sure, but all he cared about was keeping Mello safe, keeping him out of trouble, keeping him close.

Then, one day, Mello was gone.

Matt's life came to a crashing halt. For weeks, he refused to leave the safety of his bed, unwilling to navigate a world without Mello and the beautiful chaos that surrounded him. When he was forcibly extricated from his room by concerned staff, he was like a ghost, stumbling through the halls, not speaking or paying attention in class. Even the students who normally would have harassed him without Mello's blanket of protection fell silent, unnerved by such apathetic behavior in such a cut-throat environment. Eventually, after a year or so, he was sent to a counselor, who asked him about his relationship with Mello at length over the course of several sessions before deeming them "codependent."

Matt had laughed at that. If the therapist really believed that, had obviously never known Mello. Codependent implied that Mello needed him as much as he needed Mello, and Mello had never needed anybody.

Not even Matt.

After all, he had left, hadn't he?

But the man had made a point, even if it wasn't the one he thought he'd made. Matt did need Mello. More than he could bear. So the next day, he'd left Wammy's with just a backpack and his computer, and he didn't bother looking back.

There was nothing left there for him.

He caught up with Mello just four months later. By that point, he was a wreck, underfed and living in what he was fairly certain was the world's shittiest apartment, but it was all worth it for the satisfaction he felt when his system confirmed that yes, his friend was there, just a few miles away, waiting for him.

Well, probably not waiting for him. But still there, and that was all Matt needed to know.

So Matt went to the apartment that he'd pinpointed as Mello's, slinking past doormen that looked more like bouncers and gave him suspicious looks. The building was about a thousand times nicer than his own, and Matt felt horrendously out of place, but he tried his best to look natural as he found the right door and sat down outside of it, his heart pounding, readying himself for the wait.

It wasn't a long wait, thankfully. Maybe the stars were aligned over them in just the right way, or maybe the doormen had called to tell Mello about the shady-looking character lurking outside his home. Either way, it was a surprisingly short amount of time before Matt heard that familiar voice, unstrung with surprise (and maybe happiness?), call out to him.

"Matt?"

His knees shook just slightly as he stood, his nerves completely on edge as he took in the sight of his best friend. So much about him was different; so much was the same. He was still so small and slender, his hair still fell around his face in that unnaturally neat way, and his eyes were still the bluest blue that Matt had ever known… but he was harder now, and that fire that had always burned so brightly in him was touched by shadows around the edges, and Matt knew that he had had it rough these past few years, too.

The leather was a nice change, though.

"Hey, Mels," Matt said softly, reveling in seeing Mello's mouth open and close, the normally verbose blond stunned into silence. "Did you miss me?"

Matt didn't know what he had been expecting when he went after Mello. Honestly, he hadn't been able to think that far ahead. So when Mello's face broke out into a smile so beautiful that it lit up the room, chasing the shadows from his face for just a moment… it was more than Matt could have ever hoped for. And when the blond crossed the hallway to enfold Matt in a warm, desperate hug, Matt felt for the first time in years that the world made sense.

Of course, he wasn't stupid, no matter what Mello had said all those years ago. He knew the price of doing this, of being with Mello. He could see his own death in that radiant smile, feel the promise of pain and tears and destruction in the arms wrapped so securely around him. Following Mello on his chosen path was as good as committing suicide, and he knew that.

But for now, he didn't care. For now, he was certain in his belief that it would all be worth it.

Because being with Mello was the closest Matt would ever come to sanity.

End

Author's End Note: Hope you all enjoyed… Review if you can, and if you'd like, drop another one-word prompt for me to add to the list. I'd like to get the two that I already have done first, but I kind of like having options… ^^; Anyway. Later!