Frenzied Aberration

Summary: Mello can't be...Mello isn't! ...Surely...not? He's-things like that don't change! Just because it's on the paper, doesn't necessarily mean it's true, right? He just can't be... Rated T for sensitive issues about psychological issues and language. Happy Birthday, Mels?

Mello stared at the results of the physical test in horror as he gripped the sides of the paper. Besides him, he could hear the easy joking from the rest of the class about their own sheets of paper, but Mello could only stare at his in utter disbelief. This didn't make any sense. There had to be a mistake. There had to be a mistake. This…just couldn't be right. He just wasn't….

He couldn't be...

(X)

The physical and mental test had been introduced after the untimely suicide of A and the consequential running-away of B. The administration had panicked and quickly threw together these tests a week after both of the alarming events occurred. Mello had been seven at the time and had missed that test, by a lucky (or not-so-lucky) accident. He was now currently ten years old, receiving the results of another, impromptu test for everybody, after F had jumped off a bridge in Winchester.

Mello hadn't known A personally. She'd been something of a legend if he was honest. The older generations didn't really interact with the younger ones, seeing as they were all learning different things. A was a legend, being first and the best at everything she ever attempted. She was closely followed by her ever constant companion, second place B, with the black eyes that felt like they stared into your soul and the smirks that were just a tad too cruel and the laugh that was just a little too brittle. They didn't interact with many people apart from each other. None of the elder generation did. Though, Concord had a tendency to help out people with homework and generally be as nice as she could.

C was Concord to everyone, the name that she'd chosen. She'd hated being called Concession and had chosen a new nickname immediately. D was Deuteronomy and Mello didn't really see the hyperactive and slightly insane boy much, apart from at lunch, where he occasionally had conversations with seemingly, the table. E was Extra, which was a harsh moniker, and had been modified by the stern and firm boy, to Echelon.

F…well, F was just plain weird. Crazy was probably pushing it, but humans fear those who are different, this Mello knew. (Would they fear him if this ever got out…?) With a tendency to smile just a bit too long and laugh randomly for no reason, he scared people. Mello knew it was likely that he was just autistic in dealing with people, but it didn't make it any less scary when he was studying in the library to hear cackling coming from the next row over. It didn't make his death any less sad.

He didn't know them well. He didn't care about them particularly. Yet he'd cried at the funeral for A four years ago and had cried at the very recent funeral for F. Why?

(X)

Mello had always identified himself as a boy. His parents had named him after the archangel Michael for a reason. He sounded like a boy, he identified as a boy, and for those who really wanted to know, he had male genitalia. He couldn't…there was no way…

But, he couldn't deny that he wasn't exactly the perfect definition of a boy. His features were androgynous at best, girlish at their worst. His hair ended up looking 'long' no matter what Mello did to it, so Mello had eventually given up and let it stay chin length. And well, he wasn't exactly the strongest. When he'd first arrived at the orphanage, despite being a perfectly healthy child, he hadn't been able to arm-wrestle a single person and win. He had become relatively strong with his several hours training and training in the gym, but he'd never been naturally gifted with the strength that was usually present in boys.

And then, as Matt, his ever present roommate liked to point out when Mello was particularly annoying him, he didn't exactly have the most boyish tendencies.

He fussed with his appearance and hair on some days. He painted his nails black, something that had been particularly embarrassing when Matt had walked in on him trying to hurriedly touch up on them in the bathroom. He tended to wear tighter clothing and often adjusted his posture to suit, making him look particularly girly in lessons, when he crossed his legs to be more comfortable. He'd colourcoded all of his supplies, notebooks and planning materials and he routinely tidied everything, hating things that were dirty and he knew that this most definitely wasn't normal.

No one brought it up of course, (apart from Matt, who was an idiot anyway) too afraid of Mello's anger and his revenge. He liked to think that he was almost as scary as F and B had been to him as a child. It was somewhat saddening really, that if he left, people would more than likely rejoice, but it kept people away from him in his scheme to beat Near and gain the title of L, which was for the best in any case.

Another thing that had perhaps hinted at this, if he'd cared to take notice; his tendency to obsess over things. Grades, religion, beating Near, Johnny Depp for a short unspeakable period…

Either way, it was slightly recognizable, but still! It meant that he wasn't exactly the most masculine person that had ever existed. Did every boy need to be similar? He'd been second place in the most competitive school in the world, and that was surely proof that he had been doing something right! Mello was an organized and clever boy!

But, the sheet was undeniable in its stark reality.

Name: Mello

Age: 10 and four months

DOB: 13/12/1989

Blood Type: A+

Gender: Female (XX)

XX was the chromosomal composition for a girl; they'd learnt that almost three years ago. The sheet wasn't wrong in that. But he wasn't a girl! He…just couldn't be. There was no plausible way that he could be a girl and…well, have male sex organs. It just didn't make sense!

There was always the possibility that they'd tested his blood wrong…but they'd gotten his blood type correct. He'd have to ask Roger. And what an awkward conversation that would be.

"Mels, are you okay? You seem to be glaring at nothing again." asked Matt, who'd casually shoved the paper inside his bag.

"Nothing." Mello said curtly, forcing his fingers around the paper to slowly uncurl and neatly fold the creases again so that it would fit back inside its envelope. He places it inside his bag and forces a smirk onto his face. "No mental problems, Matt?"

"None. Unless you count 'excessive laziness and lack of motivation' as a mental illness. You?" Matt says, as he kicks back in his chair.

"Possible signs of inferiority complex and anger problems. Pssh. He tried suggesting PTSD too. What next? Schizophrenia? Hallucinations? My parents were Mafia members, not drug addicts. " Under ordinary circumstances, Mello would have been infuriated by what the therapist was suggesting, but he could care less about that. He wasn't a bloody girl, dammit! He was a boy! The paper had made a mistake.

"Haha, you might want to look into those anger issues, mate." Matt drawled, his American accent particularly prominent.

Mello shoves him and Matt collapses out of his chair with a laugh and the whole class stares at them with amused familiarity. "You're digging yourself into a bigger pit!" he exclaimed and Mello had rolled his eyes and very purposefully didn't cross his legs over, despite his concentration abilities reducing by approximately 20% in the uncomfortable position.

(X)

If Matt notices the smell of burning in the air when he comes back to their room after his programming lesson, he doesn't say anything to Mello. The results are firmly gone. Mello has adjusted both the computer records and created a new, identical paper copy of the sheet that they had given, with the gender of a normal boy.

There was more to change than he thought. He had an abnormal testosterone rate and an abnormal oestrogen rate. Hormones weren't quite right and his skeletal structure seemed to have more of an emphasis on the hips…all of the information was deleted or modified. There were 100 students at Wammy's House, nobody was going to be able to keep track of every little detail, even if he was second place.

There, it was done. He was normal. Sensible. Ordinary. Correct…. Right?

(X)

It became more awkward as puberty came around, because Matt and Mello were changing and Mello's changes weren't quite the same as Matt's. No, it didn't mean that he grew breasts. He wasn't a girl! Not in that way! But, it was slightly more subtle, the changes between them.

Both of their voices deepened, but while Matt sounded like a man, Mello sounded like a girl pretending to be a man, when he wasn't throwing his voice (which became normality pretty quickly, to fit in with everybody.)Matt had launched into a sudden growth spurt, growing about a foot in a week, much to Mello's chagrin, with his 'inch per month increase'.

Both of their shoulders had broadened, but to Mello's vexation, he'd also noticed a significant increase in his hip bones. Not to the extent that Xenia, one of the remnants of the third generation, had, with her curvy Asian figure, but definitely larger hips than Jason or Matt.

Matt gained weight and muscle placement around the shoulders, legs and arms, but all Mello seemed to do was get steadily thinner as his height shot up and his weight didn't increase. No extra muscle that hadn't already been gained through his fastidious physical working was added onto Mello. As he lost fat, his facial features started looking even more like a girl's and he wasn't growing much facial hair. Where Matt was having to shave every alternate day, Mello's skin stayed conspicuously smooth of acne or facial hair.

He hated it. Every little difference he noticed and catalogued, just one more reason that he wasn't quite like a guy. And well, he knew about the embarrassing part of being a male, he'd heard horror stories from the older generation, yet Mello had never experienced anything of the kind, even when he sometimes noticed Matt dashing off the bathroom in the mornings, when previously, Mello had to tip him out of bed to even get him to register anything.

And of course, the worst part was that it wasn't that he was asexual (like he suspected Near to be) because he wasn't. Nope, it was even worse. His last chance of trying to prove that he was completely male was demolished when he found himself staring a little too long at the very attractive sub teacher for Literature that they'd gained from the town while their other teacher was on maternity leave. And this teacher was very much male and very much straight, considering the picture of him kissing his girlfriend on the desk.

And Mello had been instantly aware and instantly ashamed. Not of being gay; that was hardly an affliction, even if it was against the Catholic religion, but of the fact that his last chances of being able to fake manliness was gone. He wondered sometimes what his mafia father would have thought of all of this, but reminds himself that he and his mother are in prison for life, for a very good reason.

(X)

With the news of Kira and his parents' death and then L's death, Mello's puberty issues were pushed out of his mind by the more important demands of getting food, shelter and a steady job. He'd moved to LA as quickly as he could, leaving the orphanage and the pretense of being a complete boy behind with it. He'd catch Kira before Near and do it without being either a girl or a boy.

He's not a girl, but it's obvious to him that he's not a boy. He knows that people like this, identify as transsexual but Mello knows that this term mostly applies to people who are one gender but identify or feel like the other. Mello was a weird mix of both and was starting to think that he was neither.

He'd started to dress like he was neither as well. Tight leather, that was cool to the touch that accentuated the fact that he was attractive. He knew that he was and even if his insides were screwed up, he still managed to look effortlessly flawless. He also wore large stomping boots, to tell people that he was there and fur to creep them out.

He'd hated that Rod Ross called him pretty boy those days they'd interacted before Mello had killed the rival boss, but it had been true. He wore leather gloves too, for several reasons. Hands collect the most dirt and residue and Mello was scouring the alleyways of LA and dealing with death and blood on a regular basis. His neat-freak tendencies still remained, so it was a way of keeping himself clean. It was also a way of keeping himself relatively unreadable to people. Mostly, when he deduced a person's life story, he focused on their hands to gain most of his information (it was all in the fingernails and calluses on the pads of the knuckle and sides of the finger).

His hands were blemish free, which created a false impression of him. They saw a spoilt brat who's never worked a day in his life. But Mello knows hard work almost as well as he knows the insides of a gun.

It'd been almost eight years since Mello had touched a gun, but it had been familiar in his hands as he'd killed his first person at the age of fifteen. He took down mafia leaders, manipulated people to his side and generally rose up the ranks of the Mafia with his hard work and his cruel ruthless smile. He wasn't a genius for nothing. And if he did a little bit of sexual experimenting on the side with both genders, no one really cared. Being part of the Mafia was being able to shut up and not comment about it.

(X)

And now look at him. Nineteen with half of his face blown off, all of his hard-earned cronies and henchmen dead or incarcerated, and there he was, left with only two options, both of which involved shoving himself back into some stupid gender stereotyped role. He'd enjoyed not being either. And the lesser of the two evils was calling Matt for help.

He still wasn't quite sure how he did it, but he'd somehow made it back to his crappy apartment and got on the phone to Matt. He wasn't sure whether he'd faked his voice or not or even whether he'd given Matt his address, but less than a day later, Mello woke up to a gentle prodding around his shoulder.

"Matt?" Mello asked, throwing his voice downwards.

"You really screwed yourself up this time, didn't you Mels?" said the familiar voice of his friend.

"Just a little." Mello says, quirking his mouth up in a wry smile.

""Can you see?" asked Matt and Mello opens his eyes. His right eye opens, but all his left eye sees is blackness.

"Not out of my left." Mello says, just a twinge of regret to himself. Brilliant. One-eyed Mello. Maybe he should get an eyepatch and become Pirate Mello.

"Well obviously. Considering the left half of your body is covered in bandages, you really shouldn't be able to see out of your left. I wanted to know if your right eye is okay, because the strongest part of the burns is along your back, a little too close to the spinal cord for my liking. Heck, any of you blown up isn't too my liking. What the hell happened, Mello?" Matt rants, as he prods Mello's bandages. Mello smacks his hand away.

"Kira happened." Mello says, frowning. He isn't wearing his shirt and his trousers barely survived. At least he's somewhat modest. And when did he care about that? He was supposed to be a boy now, and boys didn't care about these sorts of things, especially not around other males.

"Kira blew you up? What happened to good old heart attacks?" asked Matt, looking skeptical. Mello groaned.

"It's a long story."

"I've got nothing but time. I quit my job in San Fran and rushed down through Central Valley to get here for you. I was scared out of my wits, you know that?! Out of the blue call from five years of next-to-no-contact, and you sound like you're half dead, and when I come into your shitty apartment, you're even worse off than I ever imagined." Matt exclaims and Mello can only feel guilty.

"You didn't have to quit. I just needed to get patched up. I can't get a proper doctor or else the fake L and Kira will find me. Or even worse, Near will find me. And I knew you took all of the First Aid coursed with me at Wammy's House." Mello explained, as he eased himself up onto the sofa.

"I'm not a doctor Mels. That only ever taught us to deal with burns and cuts and gunshot wounds. It didn't teach us to deal with nerve damage or grafting skin or even how to make sure your patient is properly anaesthetized. That's all thanks to the internet and the surprisingly helpful pharmacy assistants here in LA. And of course I quit my job, Mels. I've been waiting five years for the call." Matt said, as he lifted up about eight different anaesthetics that were lying on his coffee table. Well. No wonder he couldn't feel anything.

"Waiting?" Mello asked.

"You've always needed support. You've always welcomed my support as well. And, you can't do everything by yourself. I can help you." Matt said and Mello frowned and nodded after a sigh, and started to narrate what had happened after L's death.

(X)

The next two months while Mello recovered and gathered information about Kira was awkward. Mello had decided, that being poor, he was going to have to stick to his previous style of clothing, which had been met by some raised eyebrows from Matt. But, for once, Matt hadn't questioned his decisions, which had been nice.

Mello had also spent a lot of time poking his scar and hiding it underneath his rapidly growing hair. Perhaps the only good thing that had come from the explosion was that he now properly looked like a man. Any uncertainty about gender was gone from the harsh lines and the almost permanent scowl on his face. He had also lost all feeling in his left leg and the movement in his left shoulder was forced and strained. The effects of nerve endings being severed. Matt said he was lucky to have escaped with as little as that.

He often ended up walking in on Matt getting changed or doing something in their tiny, cramped flat and vice versa, something that made Mello almost blush. He'd seen much worse at the Mafia HQ, of course, but nothing he'd been particularly attracted to. Not like Matt, who was definitely something Mello knew he could fall for or be distracted by. Not a weakness.

He'd quickly decided that he needed information on Kira quickly, which had led to contacting Lidner, simply because he knew that she was the most likely to be receptive to his ideas. And she had been, even if there was an underlying sense of her wanting something more than just exchanging information. And he'd found out a lot of information from her willingly, but he'd needed more. He'd attempted to gain as much information as he could from Near, but the little twat had given him the picture…

(X)

Near had all the information that Mello did and vice versa. It was high stakes. Whomever won, won. And Mello intended to win. Just…not as avidly as he had before. If Near won, it wouldn't sting as much as Mello had thought it would before. No, now he wanted revenge for the scar and the numbness in his body. As long as Kira died, Mello really didn't mind who won amongst them. He'd just prefer it to be him; that was all.

(X)

The task of keeping surveillance of Amane and the Task force headquarters was irritating. Dealing with surveillance of Amane was just dull, and the only reason he didn't let Matt take over his duty on that aspect was because of his little sense of right and wrong. He felt no attraction towards Amane and therefore wouldn't be tempted to do something stupid like 'fall in love' with her. After all, as Matt felt the need to point out on a frequent basis, Misa was a 'very cute young girl'.

After about the twentieth time, Mello had snapped and shouted. "I get it, Matt! She's attractive! Can you please keep focused?! She's the bloody second Kira, and she'll as soon as kill you than date you, got it?"

"It's unlikely she'd date me anyway." Matt said, sounding highly amused, over the telephone's crackly line, "I am gay."

Mello, to his credit, didn't splutter too much. Just a little cough and a sort of dying noise. "Mels?" asked Matt, over the phone, sounding a little worried.

"…We need to have a chat about when this kind of announcement is appropriate. Just…keep a watch on the headquarters of the NPA, okay? Don't slack off!" Mello sternly announced, and he could hear Matt snickering a little on the other side. Mello wanted nothing more than to hit him. That proved he was a guy, right? Guys had violent tendencies. Though, from what he'd seen of Lidner, girls weren't exactly exempt from temper tantrums.

…Damn Matt; Mello hadn't been trying to justify to himself that he was a man or a woman for five years, and all of his progress goes down the drain with one little announcement. How he hated (loved) that man.

(X)

"Okay, announcing that you're gay over the phone when we're in the middle of the job?" said Mello, the moment he walked back inside their shared flat, "Not cool."

"Why not?" asked Matt, not even looking up from his video game, "It needed to be said at some point."

"Not when I'm trying to concentrate, goddammit! Paying attention to that…that woman is so difficult. She's mind-numbingly boring, so I don't need more interesting topics distracting me!" Mello snapped, as he went for the chocolate in the fridge. He was only ever free when Amane went to sleep, which meant he kept the same times and hours as she did, much to his annoyance, especially when she woke up at 6 in the morning and went to bed at what was almost midnight.

"Are you calling me interesting, Mels?" he asked, a wry tone to his voice.

'What I'm calling you, is annoying and distracting." Mello said, as he placed his shoes up on the table as he slouched into his armchair.

"Why? Is it that big a deal that I'm gay?" asked Matt, looking up. He very deliberately scanned his eyes over Mello's clothing style. "I didn't think you, of all people, were bigoted."

"It's not a 'big deal' at all, considering I also align myself in that category. However, we are working on the Kira case, and I'm trying to figure who he is and how to get proof of it without dying. That takes some concentration, Matt." Mello calmly said, as he finished his chocolate.

Matt's eyebrows rose. "You're gay too? Should have figured."

"Not every gay person dresses like I do. Your wardrobe more than attests to the fact that gay people can have an awful sense of fashion." Mello said, a smirk on his face, as he kicked off his boots.

Matt laughed and they lapsed into silence.

"When did you figure it out?" Matt asked, looking a mixture of curious and mortified.

"When I was around 13 or something. After feeling rather lustful feelings towards Johnny Depp and the sub teacher we had for Lit, I think I had enough of a brain to figure it out." Mello said, dryly. Matt chuckled a little.

"You aren't escaping this, now that you asked me." Mello said, sternly. "What about you?"

Matt flushed a little and looked away. "You're going to laugh."

"Most likely." Mello agreed and Matt snorted a little.

"Ever honest, aren't you, Mels?" he said, sounding rather bitter. "It's since I moved in with you."

Mello felt his brain freeze, shut down and explode simultaneously. He wondered whether Matt could hear it too. His hands were shaking a little, as he palmed his face a little.

"Mels?" he asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Matt, do you like me in that way?" Mello asked, struggling to keep his voice calm.

"I…don't know. I think so. I'm fairly certain that I do." Matt said, and he sounded rather scared now.

"Good." Mello said, before leaning forward and pulling Matt into a harsh kiss. Their noses collided and Matt's goggles pressed against the bridge of Mello's nose in a rather painful manner, but Mello didn't care, because Matt was responding with as much enthusiasm as Mello had instigated the kiss with.

They broke apart for air and Mello stared at Matt's flushed face a little. "Lust or love?" Mello asked, his voice sounding a little closer to his normal voice than he would have liked.

"Both." Matt said, before they pulled into another kiss, with slightly less awkwardness. Mello wasn't without experience in this, and it was fairly apparent that Matt didn't know much about how these things worked. Not that Mello was much better when it came to the part where taking off clothes were involved, but kissing?

Matt pulled away, looking a little reluctant. "What happens afterwards?" he whispers.

Mello shrugs. "Life goes on. We keep searching for evidence and when it's all over, once Kira's dead, we can go on some kind of adventure. Just the two of us. Make something out of our lives for a change."

"You're that confident?" Matt asked, his voice barely audible.

"No." Mello says, as brutally honest as ever, "But it won't stop me from trying."

"It never has." Matt agrees, before they spring into another tantalizing kiss.

(X)

It's around two in the morning and they're curled up in the same bed. The heat of LA is almost unbearable and Mello's mostly gotten rid of the duvet. Matt's leant back against his side and his hair is somewhat ticklish against Mello's bare chest. But that's not what's keeping him awake.

"Matt." Mello murmured and Matt nodded.

"What is it, Mels?"

"I'm not who you think I am." Mello said.

Matt turned around and looked at him, a slightly bemused look in his blue eyes. "Don't tell me, you're Misa Amane in disguise, secretly wanted to jump me after I've been stalking you for days."

Mello snorted and Matt grinned. Damn, but Matt knew how to break the tension. "Seriously Matt. I'm…not really who you think I am."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Go on then. Who are you?"

"It's not a question of name or identity. I'm…not a girl or a boy." Mello said.

Matt, to his credit, barely reacted to this. "Really? Then what have I been making love to for the past hour? An alien?"

Mello smacked him and Matt snickered just a little.

"I'm serious, you bastard! You remember back when we got those stupid physical tests after F died?" Mello snarled.

Matt's eyebrows rose. "I remember," he said, "The one that indicated mental issues and anger problems? Because, I could have seen that coming a mile away."

"Would you stop joking around, Matt?!" Mello snaps, letting his real voice finally surface. Matt's eyebrows furrow a little bit and Mello laughs, bitterly, and it's high-pitched.

"This is what I sound like when I'm not faking a man's voice." Matt is finally silent and looks at Mello, with an honest looks on confusion and worry. "I've never had to shave once in my life. I've never had the early morning problems, because I don't have sperm. I have a low amount of testosterone and a high amount of oestrogen. Who knows what other hormones deficiencies I have? And, the final straw is that I have two X chromosomes. I'm some sick twisted version of a human being, and fuck! I don't even know what I'm supposed to be anymore!"

Matt is quiet before he grabs Mello's hand. "You're Mello, otherwise known as Mihael Keehl. You're a genius from the most advanced school in the world. You're the former leader of the LA Mafia and the son of the leader of the German Mafia. You're fighting Kira and Near and you're the first person that I ever loved. Isn't that enough?"

And damn, but Mello can't stop the tears that escape from his eyes, even if he bites his lip firmly. He feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off of his shoulders. He's never felt this liberated, this free. Someone knows about his abnormality, his aberration and they didn't care. He didn't care. Gods, he loved Matt more than he'd ever expected.

He hasn't cried since L's death, not since he recreated himself to not be quite as broken as he had been before. But he'd never felt like he'd come to terms with his abnormality. Not like he does now.

Matt pulls him into a hug and Mello accepts it easily. If it were daytime, Mello would have shoved him off, but in the dark peace of the room, Mello can't bring himself to emulate the male half of himself. "How long have you held this with you?" Matt asks.

"Nearing eight years now." Mello says, inbetween harsh sobs. It's not in any way attractive and he's sniffling as the tears stop and he can barely control his shaking arms, but Matt doesn't even seem to register it, as he strokes Mello's hair softly.

"No wonder you're half mad." Matt says and Mello snorts and breaks into a somewhat hysterical laughter.

"You're digging yourself into a bigger pit." Matt said easily, just like he'd done many a time back at Wammy's and Mello pushes him gently.

"Shut up, Matt." Mello says, silencing him with a kiss. Mello's somewhat broken and possibly insane, but he's more at peace with himself than he's been for eight years. All's well that ends well, indeed.

AN: First of all, I have nothing against intersexual people. In fact, I hold them in great respect for what they have to deal with every day. Mello's just not got a clue about what he's undergoing and thinks that he's a freak. This is due to his condition being discovered in 2001, where the ethical and psychological ideas behind transgender and intersexual people were first being explored and discovered, rather than in full place like they are today.

There is a long and complex medical condition for this, called Congenital adrenal hyperplasia. Mello's got a rarer form of it here, but it's a fairly common, if unknown, recessive disorder. I've not even started to delve into the complex psychological things that can happen to children with this disorder, but they aren't great.

It's strange actually, how much evidence I could actually take from canon to make this little theory of Mello's symptoms. The nail polish, the clothing, the strangely feminine voice (at times, especially in the English dub), the androgynous face and the way he thinks. There are some very feminine things in there, which isn't a bad thing at all; it makes Mello a more complex character, it just always made me wonder.

By the way, this is not my head-canon, just an idea I wished to toy with, that happily coincided with Mello's birthday! Happy Birthday Mello! You're a tormented intersexual!