A.N: Yay! Thank you for the reviews about the last chapter, I'm really pleased so many people had so many positive things to say, and I feel I learnt a lot about writing with that last chapter. This chapters quite short, but the next one, which I hope to finish by Thursday latest should make up for it in length. That's all I have to say really, apart from my friend pointed out to me to day that Yagami is an anagram of I am gay, or read backwards I'm a gay. I was very amused, and consider this important evidence in favour of LightxL :)

Over the next few months Matt and Mello fell into a close friendship, something neither had expected to happen, but became unavoidable in the week Matt was stuck in the sick bay with only Mello for company. The blond came by after class everyday, and while his visits were not peaceful ones ideal for individuals in recuperation, they kept Matt entertained at least. As well as bringing batteries for his GameBoy, Mello also brought less welcome gifts, such as assignments and homework. Matt was always amused by how dutiful Mello was towards his studies, but had to admit it obviously paid off when Mello deigned to help him with his work.

Even after Matt was well enough to move back into their room, they didn't drift apart. They made a good team; both smart and mischievous enough to keep each other amused, but their differences helping them to balance their less favorable attributes, bringing out the best in each other. Mello, Matt soon discovered, was very protective of his 'possessions', of which he classed Matt as one.

This was discovered during Matt's first day back in class.

They were five minutes early due to Mello's distaste for breakfast meaning Matt had to rush his, while his friend waited impatiently for him to finish. The teacher hadn't arrived yet and Matt was playing his GameBoy as Mello was preoccupied talking to someone else. He was just facing the final boss on Super Mario Land when a sudden blow landed across his face. Shocked at the attack, Matt dropped his console, looking up to see Chance glowering at him.

The girl was breathing heavily, and her eyes looked suspiciously watery. Matt had a sinking feeling he knew what this was about.

"You stole my place!"

Gloomily Matt leaned down from his chair to pick up his GameBoy, noticing it had been turned off in the fall. His feeling had been right then.

"Don't ignore me!" Chance raised her hand to strike him again.

She never got that far.

"Hands off." Mello's voice was low, dangerous. Somehow he'd moved fast enough to grab Chance's wrist before she could hit Matt again. Chance said nothing, but tried to tug her hand away, lips tightening in pain as Mello strengthened his grip and continued, still in that scarily quiet voice, layered with menace. "The reason that Matt's third is simple; he's smarter, so back off."

Laughing harshly, Chance gestured with her free hand at Matt's bandaged ones. "Do you really think so? He can't even look after himself. Looks like he need's help with everything."

For a minute Matt thought Mello was actually going to snap her wrist, and it seemed Chance seemed to think so too. Her face, which had been red when she first marched over self-righteously, was now blanching blotchily.

With a self-control Matt hadn't known Mello to possess, the teen contented himself with twisting her arm into a painful-looking position before dropping it.

Although she didn't cry out, she was clearly in pain as she held her arm against herself, gritting her teeth and speaking coldly, eyes flat and mean. "You'll regret this."

Before Mello could sneer and start an actual fight, the teacher came in, and everyone who had turned round to watch hurriedly turned back. Chance moved to an empty desk at the back off the room, and Mello dropped into the now vacant one beside Matt.

"Thanks." Matt muttered, sliding his GameBoy into his jacket.

Shrugging arrogantly, Mello told him, "I don't like people messing with my stuff."

Sliding his laptop out of his bag and onto his desk, Matt sat in silence while he waited for it to power up, and then said what was on his mind. "Do you think she's right?"

Mello seemed to know instinctively what he was worried about, and he glared at Matt. "Idiot! I hate people who doubt themselves. Chance is just talking shit to get to you, and you're smart enough to know better."

Mello was right, Matt thought ruefully, and he was just about to tell him so, when the teacher crashed his ruler against the blackboard, "No talking!"

Probably just as well, Matt decided as he watched Mello yell back at the teacher, he'd never hear the end of it if he told him that.

Soon it was the final week of June. They'd finished the second batch of tests, and Matt was relieved to see he was still in third, proving he was smart enough to be there. Near still occupied the position of first though, leaving Mello dissatisfied enough that he wasn't even taking a break from studying.

Despite Matt's protests, Mello had towed him reluctantly outside, insisting Matt needed to get some fresh air before he became allergic to it. Unhappily, Matt had agreed but was now seeking refuge from the brightly shining sun by huddling under the shade of a broad oak tree. Several other people had taken advantage of the nice weather to study outside too, but the boys had found a fairly secluded spot. Having decided it was unlikely he'd be seen; Matt pulled his packet of cigarettes out and placed one between his lips while he fumbled for his lighter.

"Thought you were quitting." He sounded bored but Matt knew better.

"…" Matt peered up at his friend behind the safety of orange lenses. The blond was bent over a heavy book, his long ashy hair falling in his face. "I only said I'd think about it." He reminded Mello.

Sighing as though Matt was dragging him away from something really interesting, instead of the first principles of thermodynamics, Mello looked up in irritation, "What's to think about; it's a habit that involves inhaling vast quantities of toxic chemicals, which is causing your body lots of problems and will, probably, lead to your death."

There was no answer to that, so Matt shrugged and lit up instead. He heard Mello swear, but didn't really listen, sucking in his addiction instead.

"I don't know why I hang out with you, you're so -'

But Matt never found out what Mello was going to say next.

"Matt!" One of the teachers appeared, rushing around the tree.

"Shit!" Frantically, he stubbed his cigarette out while ignoring Mello's sniggering, hoping she somehow hadn't noticed.

Although she must have seen, for some reason she didn't say anything, instead she just looked at him sadly, and that clued him in that something was wrong. "What's happened?" he asked, mind racing as he tried to think of something she could have to tell him which would make her look this sad. All he could think was that they'd calculated the scores wrong and he'd actually come last.

"Roger will tell you, come along." She placed a hand on his shoulder as they started walking towards the buildings, Mello loping along beside them, keeping his mouth shut for once. Matt supposed they were trying to be comforting, but since he wasn't upset it just served to make him feel slightly sick with worry.

Mello settled against a wall to wait when they got to Roger's office. Matt was grateful he wasn't just leaving, but for some reason wished Mello would ask to come in with him. His feelings of dread only increased when he saw the heavy expression on Roger's face. It was a look of someone who was responsible for sharing bad news.

Gravely Roger cleared his throat, picking up a piece of paper from the fax machine. "Matt," he began gently, hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure how to say the rest.

Ducking his head, Matt scuffed his shoes on the carpet, wishing he'd get on with it.

"There's been some bad new. I'm truly sorry. Your mother has been killed."

Bad news. That made it sound like the weather report, not something that struck him like a physical blow, leaving him reeling, the pain punching a hole through his chest like a shot from a cannon. Matt gripped the sides of the chair tightly, knuckles whitening. Just breathe. Think calmly; logic dictates that this kind of pain cannot kill you. "How?" he asked, although what he really meant was who? Why? What was to gain from killing her?

"It was a man who'd been sectioned with schizophrenia. He broke out a few days ago and was off his medication." Roger handed over the piece of paper, "The details are here."

Numbly Matt took the paper and scanned it blankly. He had to read it twice, and even then the words made little sense for once, jumping around the page, one sentence burning indelibly into his memory. Cause of death: arterial haemorrhaging.

He swallowed down bile, the bitterness spreading through his body like a disease. A stupid error of judgment; she'd seen the escaped man, and noticing his distress tried to aid him. Agitated and distracted by the 'demon' he claimed followed him, he'd become confused and angry, stabbing her repeatedly in the chest and neck.

Angrily Matt put the sheet down on the desk. He didn't want to read any more. When he closed his eyes, he could see his mother lying on a grimy pavement, green eyes blank and staring, her auburn hair dyed redder by the pool of blood collecting under her dead body; he couldn't stop thinking how he hadn't seen or spoken to her in two years, cutting off all ties when he joined Wammy's. As though she was dead to him, they'd told him, that's how it had to be, for his safety as well as hers. It felt different now though, her death breaking his last link to his previous life. He wondered dimly if this is how she'd felt losing him, and that's what started his tears, thinking he might have caused her this kind of pain.

He didn't allow himself to grieve in front of Roger. Instead he thanked the man in a choked voice, ignoring the painful sympathy in Roger's voice as he told him not to worry about classes until he was ready, the heaviness as the man clasped Matt's hand briefly, the burden of death settling in Matt's chest, making every heartbeat hurt.

As soon as he could, he exited, walking past a waiting Mello without a word, ignoring as he called after him, voice tinted the unfamiliar shade of concern. He was too scared to open his mouth in case his jaw shattered like glass and he kept breaking, until he fell apart completely.

Back in his room Matt crawled under the duvet, ignoring the soft sigh of the door opening as Mello entered ten minutes later. Mello didn't ask, just waited silently for an explanation. Not having one, not knowing why people have to suffer, Matt turned on his GameBoy instead. Real life was too hard; when people died you couldn't just restart or use a potion, they were gone for good.