Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or Matt, or Mello. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.

A/N: Sometimes I just end up thinking up odd things. And however much I love Mello, he's really a psycho, whatever other character depth we may enjoy giving him. Matt just strikes me as being really….normal. And I had to think about why he allowed himself to become attached to this psycho whom I love.

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There's this thing about crazy people, all the ones I've known anyway, that makes them really easy to like. Even love. A few of them had charisma on their side, or beauty, or brute force. But I guess it's not good to trust anything they do, anything about them, except that they'll be crazy tomorrow.

My parents were both nutters. Maybe that's why I find it so easy to accept weirdos for what they are, and trust them. Your parents are the people you're supposed to trust the most, right? So that makes sense, to me at least.

You'd be surprised how many really brilliant people are totally insane.

Like Mello.

I don't think he started off that way, but, by the time I met him he was already close to the edge and his sanity was ready to jump. I think Near's arrival pushed him over.

It's never been easy for him to accept defeat. Honestly, I'm not sure anyone could stand up to constant defeat by someone who is younger then them. Well…I could. But Near's first, I'm third. That's a bigger difference then most people understand. Besides, I can handle third; it's not so bad for me. I kinda like it. No pressure, you know? But Mello likes winning. I mean, he really loves it. And I love him, so I'll hate Near with him and for him.

I just liked to watch him, with his expressive face that could show even the slightest change in his feelings. The way his eyes twisted up when he was angry, so you could tell he was more then a little crazy, how when he's happy he looks like a little kid. Not like he's been happy much.

As he got older, he got crazier. By the time we were 14, I figured Roger was gonna pull him out of the running for successor to L and send him off to a nuthouse because that year some of the things he did to Near was just really disgusting. I mean, I'm with him every step of the way on the "Near deserved it" front. I don't like Near anymore then he does, he's cold and unpleasant and arrogant. I would have done everything Mello said but, even I, the eternally loyal sidekick, would have nothing to do with them. I wouldn't ever have wanted my name associated with those last pranks.

Then when L died, the last time I saw Mello before he left, I thought he was gonna kill me. I thought he was…he was gonna do something awful. I was certain he was going to jump a gap he hadn't yet crossed in those last months, which in my mind led directly to murder.

But he didn't even say anything to me. He came into our room, looked at me once, and left, chocolate in hand.

I won't say I didn't miss him, c'mon, he's my best friend, the only person I can even remember loving, but I thought I got over him. I thought maybe I'd grown past him.

But the guy's like a drug, you know? I guess people are right if they assume I took up smoking to replace him. I sorta did. But I think video games were more the "official" replacement for Mello. Unfortunately, no animated explosion is enough to equate to Mello. That kid needs an arsenal to explode before you begin to touch on what he'd like.

So in some ways, getting blown up was good for him. The scar was good for him. It made him sane again. It knocked him off the high horse of obsession and narcissism, at least for a little while. And aside from that, it made him come back to me. I guess I was the only one he could come crawling to. I should have been angry he just returned and expected it to be like old times. I should have been upset he just wanted me to be his sidekick again. That really shouldn't have made me happy.

But it did. Still does. It was nice, for once, to have him sane and needing me. You wouldn't believe how nice that felt. He had to admit he needed me; he had to admit I was worth his attention. For once in my life, Mello admitted he needed me.

But of course, it was too good to last long.

He had to go and get mixed up with white marble boy again. Near, that autistic son of a bitch, pushed Mello right back over the edge and once again, I was there to watch. I could have killed the little white freak. I don't know what he said this time, it probably should have been considered revenge, but I would love to be the one to kill him, for what he did to Mello.

Of course, Mello probably did some of it himself.

After he saw Near, Mello dove back into work with a furious passion. Near refreshed his need to win and I was there to bear witness to Mello's actions, as always.

Then he came up with the Takada plan. I think he knew that we were both gonna get killed doing it, and I could see that maybe, just maybe, it was making him a little sane again, thinking about his own mortality. That's what brought him back to earth after the explosion after all; he so easily could have died and his scar made him think about it. Mortality made him saner, more like the kid I knew and boy I fell in love with. I liked him when he was crazy but I loved him when he was sane. I would do anything for him, give up everything for him.

Now it looks like I have.

I did my job that evening, made the smokescreen and ran. Just like Mello said. I did exactly what he said. I sped away while they were still confused by the smoke. I knew that still some would follow, but I wasn't completely sure where I would lead my pursuers.

I imagined I could see Mello's bike in my rearview mirror, retreating with the woman. I imagined he looked back, and smiled at me. He looked so sane when he smiled at me.

But I didn't see anything.

And by that point, I had realized I would probably never see him again.

When I was finally forced to stop in front of the enemy's blockade, my car skidded along the road as a slammed on the brakes so I wouldn't hit the black wall of bodyguard's cars. I was starting to get desperate; I knew I had to appear calm. I had to look certain I would get out alive. My mind needed to stay clear. I couldn't panic like a cornered animal.

I did just what he told me to do.

I stepped out, hands held high, and faced the big suited men with guns. I told them I would tell them whatever they wanted to know. For a moment, I was almost certain they wouldn't shoot. There was no reason for them to. I was more valuable alive.

But apparently…that didn't matter. All of them opened fire. They said nothing to me, just filled me with bullets. Now my vest's got blood on it, my blood. It's all icky and red...and it's in my goggles…I can't see right. I just did what I said I'd do. Anything for him, give up everything…

I loved him, not that it matters.

I'd do anything he said.

I guess that makes me crazy too, huh?

-Fade to Black-