Woah, another chapter not two and half years later! I'm on a roll XD. Anyways, this chapter is going to feature a scene at a catholic church and I'm going to apologize for any inaccuracies in advance because I'm not catholic or Christian so I'm not familiar on all the goings on in mass. I'm not familiar with anything about Moscow either and had to rely on internet research for both subjects. Sorry about that. Anyways, here is your Chapter Six:

Okay, so he had been completely and totally wrong about Mello's bark being worse than his bite. The bite was worse, much much worse. He had viewed and received countless brutal beatings the past few years of his childhood on the daily, but never committed by someone his own age. He didn't even realize kids could do something like that! Mello had pummeled Blaire and Nears faces to a bloody pulp, and had come very close to doing the same to his own. He had felt the same fear in his gut whenever his father had raised his hand to strike him, had saw the same anger taking over the fires of Mello's eyes and then suddenly fading away with no warning at all. It was astonishing how fast it had all came and went.

He found that his head was still spinning when he slumped into the chair in Roger's office along with the other three, and they each had to go over their part of the story. When he finally managed to speak he backed Mello up along with Near that Blaire had most definitely verbally provoked the attack, and kept silent when Near added that he was only trying to break up the fight before he had also been turned on. He didn't want to make Mello any angrier with him than he might be already. Roger was exasperated but unsurprised and Matt wondered how often incidents like this happened and if they were all really caused by Mello, if the reason all the children were scared of him wasn't just his tough aura and language but the physical proof he had to verify them. Roger sent Near and Blaire off with Miss Harada to be treated at the nurse's office and then addressed Matt and Mello with a grim and tired face.

"Mello, you've committed a very terrible temper tantrum of violence today and I hope that you reflect upon it and regret it. How can you ever expect to become successor to Ryuzaki if you can't keep your composure in the face of a few simple taunts?"

"But Roger, he said that-" Mello started to protest.

"I really don't care what he said, you cannot let him provoke you! And now you're going to have to pay the price. After you go to Mass tomorrow, I want you to report to the dining hall instead of your class and wash all the dishes by hand. And Matt, I would like it if you would help and keep an eye on him."

"Oh Matt didn't do anything Roger, you know that! And I'll fall behind if you take me out of class!" Mello exclaimed.

"I am not trying to punish Matt, but I think it would benefit you to be accompanied and try to cooperate with one of your peers. Besides, I need to find out whether he'll be able to stay in your classroom, a classroom you don't deserve to learn in young man if you're going to endanger the other students! Now, I'd like for you both to spend the remainder of the day conducting your studies in the library, and Mello first thing tomorrow I want two written apologises to both Near and Blaire. And before you ask, yes I will have Blaire write you an apology as well. Now both of you, out of my office." Roger sighed, one hand rubbing his temple and the other raised and waving them out the door.

Matt wasn't sure what to say to Mello once they were alone in the hallway.

"You better not be scared of me like everyone else now. Because I don't want to be your roommate if you're going to be cowering away from me all the time, that will get annoying." Mello groaned, as if that was the worst thing that had come from all of this.

Matt nodded, but didn't say anything as they walked toward the library, because he was scared of Mello now, as much as he didn't want to be.

"I did it for you, you know. I didn't want to watch you just sit there and let him make fun of you. You have to learn to stand up for yourself or assholes like that will walk all over you! Hey, say something would you!"

Mello grabbed his shoulder and Matt froze. He quickly dropped his hand.

"Look, I didn't want to hit you, sometimes I might go a little berserk and I don't know what I'm doing okay, but I wasn't actually going to hit you! So don't be scared of me okay? I'm not going to do whatever they did to you."

Matt stopped walking dead in his tracks. Mello bit his lip and started to clink the beads of his rosary together.

"A lot of people around here have fucked up pasts; it's how most of us became orphans in the first place right? So I understand if something really awful happened to you, but you can let it go now. You don't have to worry about them anymore because I'll look out for you now; we'll say it's calling it even for freaking you out on your first day here."

Matt didn't realize he was crying until he felt the warm liquid pouring down his cheeks. Mello's face turned red when he saw them.

"But I'm not dealing with any of that crap, so you can save that for the school therapist okay?! I'm not even kidding; we actually have one of those, so you can go crying to him and not to me. Look let's just go to the library okay, I'll help you do some studying so you can get caught up with the class."

He reached his arm out towards Matt once again and Matt used the front of his shirt to wipe up his face before he took it and let the boy lead him around the building. He had cried more in front of people these past few weeks than he had in years and he could physically feel the walls he had been taught to build his whole life to keep all emotions curled up tightly on the inside rather than pouring outside for all to see breaking, torn apart by Mello's expressive displays of both anger and kindness. He could tell Mello wanted to appear like he didn't give a care in the world about what anyone thought or felt about him, but he tried so hard to carry this air that it obviously became the opposite. Without having to say anything, Matt could read all of his actions like a book. He knew that for the first time in his life he was beginning to understand someone. For the first time he had an ally. A real friend.
_

The next day when Mello shook him awake there was no light at all pouring in through the window, only the dark blue quiet of pre-dawn. They had taken their lunch and dinner in their room last night because Roger later informed them that Mello would be forbidden from dining with the other students until he fulfilled his punishment. They had sat in the library all day with Mello reading him passages of non-fiction works in all subjects for the entirety, refusing to start writing the apology letters that Matt imagined would never be completed unless by force, until they had both dozed off into an evening nap, heads falling onto each other's shoulders as their bodies slipped down their bean bag chairs. Matt had gotten more sleep than he had for as far back as he could remember, and for the first time it was no longer plagued by twisted fitful dreams. So he wasn't tired due to the early wake up call, just thoroughly confused, especially when Mello instructed him to dress in his nicest clothes. Matt didn't know if he had any nice clothes aside from the suit from his parent's funeral, which he never wanted to have to wear again.

"Why?" he asked. "Where are we going?"

"To Mass of course, it's Sunday! Don't you remember Roger mentioning it yesterday?"

"Sort of. But what is it?"

Mello stared at him with widening eyes and a hanging open mouth, looking like Matt had just struck him across the face.

"It's Mass dumbass! We're obviously going to church so our souls aren't eternally damned to Hell!"

Matt was confounded. He had only ever heard church called church, and sure Mello wore a rosary but he had assumed it was something of sentimental rather than religious value to him. Matt had met religious people before when they came to the door when his parents were away so his father wasn't there to scream at them that they "didn't want to take any of their Jesus bullshit" and to "get of my damn property before I shoot you!" and Mello didn't strike him at all as the type.

They had been super friendly for one thing, but not in a way that Matt liked. There was an underlying condescension, a 'we are so much better and more enlightened than you' manner to their gentleness that made all of it seem fake as can be to him. And he didn't like what they said about hell either, that if he would just get his parents to take him to this building one day a week and pray for his sins (and Matt couldn't even figure out what his sins were) that he would be saved and go to heaven. He wanted to go to heaven so he could be with his mother, he really did, but he didn't think that seemed like a legitimate way to get there. If it was then his mother wouldn't be in heaven at all, and he couldn't bear to think of her spending eternity anywhere else.

And then there was the God matter. God was supposed to watch over children because children were innocent. He was supposed to love and protect them when the love and protection in their life was lacking. But in spite of these promises, Matt had never been protected. He had never been spared any of his bruises, cuts, and loneliness inflicted by his father; he endured it all with no salvation in sight and if the car accident hadn't happened and he hadn't gone to the hospital, then maybe he and his mother would have eventually died by his father's hand. Wasn't that proof that no matter how hard you prayed no holy force was going to swoop in and save you? That you had to do the saving yourself or nothing would ever change?

Still, no matter what his own opinions were he didn't want to let Mello down by refusing to go with him if this was something he believed strongly in. He didn't recall having ever been in a church but he didn't see how it could do him any harm. He could at least give it a shot.

"I've actually never been to church or Mass before. But I'll go with you anyways if that's allowed."

"You've never been to church?! Well… I guess it's not really surprising but it's just fucking disgraceful. I'm the only one at Wammy's who goes, Roger takes me. We can all go to whatever religious services we like but nobody else ever does, because everybody here thinks they're too smart to believe in anything but their own brains. Me, my par… we're catholic. I've been going to church since I was born."

Mello didn't look right when he wasn't wearing black. The white dress shirt he buttoned up made his blue eyes look even more electric, like they were going to burn right out of his head. Matt pulled on a maroon sweater he had packed and decided that it would have to be good enough.

"My parents were atheists I think, if it's okay for me to go still." Matt supplied as he followed Mello to the front hall where Roger was waiting, looking tired as usual and holding three black umbrellas's to shield them from the light drizzle morning outside.

"Of course it is! Better late than never, and I'll probably get double points for helping save your soul."

Roger shook his head when he caught this snippet of the conversation.

"I really don't think that's the way it works Mello."

The church was enormous, towering over the green lawn with its black steeples, the crosses topping the two of them and the center peak looming in the air ominously. The congregation filing through the doors was almost entirely composed of elderly people and Matt was alarmed when Roger motioned for them to go in on their own as he was going to take a walk and wait for them outside. The air inside was warm and woody, a scent that made Matt think of the pages of old books as Mello chose a pew for them to sit in at the front of the room and handed Matt the bright red bible. Their legs hung off the edge of the bench and swung back and forth without grazing the floor and Matt watched the gold coloured light filter through the large stained glass windows to their left. Matt had never seen anything as beautiful as the sun hitting the brilliantly tinted scenes in his life, but he didn't look directly at the faces of the saints because their expressions were so melancholy that it made his stomach hurt.

Matt was shocked that Mello could sit still through the entire service because he found himself wanting to get up and run out the doors. His feet were falling asleep and his back was aching and he couldn't follow what the pastor was talking about, but Mello seemed enthralled with every word. During one of the prayers almost everyone kneeled on the floor but Mello pushed him back to remain seated. People shook his hand and told him "peace be with you", and later on everyone went up to the front and (Mello told him to remain where he was when he went) ate a small perfect circle of white bread and drank from a silver wine glass. Matt didn't have a clue what the reasons behind any of this were, but it was interesting to watch Mello being so engaged and respectful. His voice rang out louder and higher pitched than Matt would have imagined during the hymns, and he was oddly quiet on the walk back to Wammy's. He even slipped his hand into Matt's when they crossed busy streets with Roger, it burned warm and soft in his palm. He may not be a fan of Mass, but he liked the effect that it had on Mello.

Roger left them in the dining hall just as he had threatened. Mello started on the dishes, but held up his hands when Matt also reached for the yellow rubber gloves.

"Hey, I can do this part on my own. What I want is for you to write the apology to Blaire and Near, seeing as I picked the fight on your behalf. I'll be damned before I ever actually apologize to that white haired pig."

"Why do you hate him so much?" Matt asked, taking the neatly folded square of stationary Mello had pulled out of his pocket and sitting down opposite the sink.

"He just thinks he's so much fucking better than everybody else, thinks he's smarter than me just because he scored highest on Ryuzaki's test! It was only 1 percent but I swear he's going to try and hold that shit over my head the rest of his life. There's more to being a successor than just intelligence. You've got to have unbreakable determination, and I do. Besides, Ryuzaki likes me better I can tell!"

Mello scrubbed aggressively at the dishes, so hard that Matt was worried that one of them was going to crack.

"How do you figure? Isn't he not supposed to play favourites?"

"He doesn't of course because he's Ryuzaki and he can't, but I'm really good at reading people, even him. It's just a feeling I have! Besides, he's spent more time with me than anybody else here." Mello replied defensively.

"So you're the one who scored second highest?"

"Yeah I scored second highest, what's it fucking to you?"

"Well, I was just wondering because... well I scored third."

The blue flames of Mello's eyes flickered brighter and he dropped a fork that clattered to the bottom of the sink as soapy suds splashed upwards.

"Why didn't you say that before? DAMN IT!" Mello slammed his fists down on either side of the sink.

"What's wrong with that?" Matt asked, putting down his pencil and looking up at Mello's flushed face with alarm.

"'What's wrong with that?' What's fucking wrong with it is that I finally thought I had... you know I thought I had got what I had been praying for. I just wanted you know like... everyone has at least one person, that's natural, it's normal for me to want one person... I'm not weak for wanting someone to talk to okay?! But everyone around here is so fucking annoying, they assume they know everything because they think they're the smartest they can get, it's like talking to robots, snide robots like Near! And then you come along and... you don't annoy me as much. And you seem to have some feelings, even though you kind of act like a doormat when people are mean to you which is stupid, but you know you cry and you ask questions, and I kind of don't mind you. You're not as fucking indifferent as everybody else is around here when it comes to things outside of intelligence tests and whatnot. But now it's ruined, whatever I thought, because it turns out your my competition." Mello finished, slightly out of breath and turned away from Matt, his shoulders crossed.

"Mello it, it doesn't have to be like that. Just because I scored third highest-"

"No it does have to be like that, because we both have to do our best to become Ryuzaki's next successor and... That's all I strive for so I can't be, you're... I just can't if it's possible that you'll be the one to take that away from me."

"No Mello listen. I don't know what I want okay? I just got here and I haven't figured that out yet, but I'm not that ambitious or determined so I know that I could never be successor to Ryuzaki and even if I could, don't take this the wrong way or anything, I wouldn't want to! His job seems pretty dangerous and I just kind of want to live I guess. And I've never had a friend in my life and I kind of don't mind you either so..."

"You... you really don't want to be successor?"

"Not at all."

"Well... you're a real idiot then because that's the only reason you should be here, you're definitely fucking jeopardizing the academic integrity of this institution or whatever by not trying to do your best but I guess that it's too late to send you back to America because you know too much, so I guess you can stay here and... Be my friend or whatever."

Mello was grimacing when he squeezed out the words but Matt was positively beaming.

"How did you know I was from America?"

"From your accent, stupid! But none of us are supposed to know where the others from because it could lead to identities being given away later on."

"You have an American accent too."

"No I don't! I've just lost my accent because I speak so many languages."

"How many?" Matt asked amazedly.

"5. Near speaks 7 but I'm going to finish learning German and Mandarin, and then maybe Cantonese so I'll be ahead."

"What's your first then?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you but I guess I can just to make things fair because I know where you're from. It's Russian. It would be really hard for you to learn because we have a different alphabet than you."

"What's it like in Russia?" He didn't think Mello would ever talk this much about himself and he wanted to see how far he could get, how much he could unravel about his first friend and why he acted like he did.

"I don't remember a whole lot honestly. We lived in Moscow, inside the garden ring which is the inner city. It's the capital city so you've probably heard of it. The winter is freezing and harsh and the summer is really short and hot. It was super crowded all the time and the traffic's terrible. A lot of the buildings are colourful and ornate but others are grey and ugly, it's a big mix. I'd like to go back when I'm older if I can... It's an expensive place to live but my parents left a lot of money. I came here when I was 4."

"What happened?"

"...You have to tell me yours first. I'm not sharing my secrets if you don't share yours."

Matt hadn't talked about this with anyone, not since he had with the social worker which was uncomfortable and upsetting. But with Mello it was easier to let it come falling out.

"My dad... wasn't a good person at all. He got out of prison when I was 4 and he started to beat me and my mom, but she never did anything about it because she was too drunk and empty to care. They were both drunk and high all of the time. They died in a car accident because he was driving drunk. But I was already in the hospital when that happened, because I fell and cut my wrist on broken glass, from the bottles they left around." He didn't think he would be able to ever get the story out without crying, but something about staring into Mello's eyes made him feel stronger, like the past couldn't hurt him anymore. He could be whoever he wanted now.

"That's really shitty, but it's not uncommon. A lot of people here went through the same stuff. Mine's similar. My father was involved in a lot of organized crime, higher up. He made a lot of money by getting other people out of the way. He was a murderer, but half the time he was a gentle father and husband. He gave me and my mother the best, anything we could ever want. But it was like he had a split personality. The other half of the time he was cold and fierce and showed us the same face and treatment that he must have showed his brotherhood. And my mother never said anything about those episodes after they were over. She just cleaned herself up and went on writing poetry and singing. She had beautiful calligraphy and a more beautiful voice, but she didn't have to do it for money. She wasn't allowed to work, he wouldn't let her lift a finger, just indulge her hobbies and entertain his friends. He liked to show her off, she was gorgeous. But she was really smart, smarter than him and I think he resented that. He just wanted a pretty doll. Fuck. You can never tell anyone any of that. I can't believe I'm dumb enough to tell you any of this, if you tell anyone I'll kill you."

Matt believed him. And he didn't mention the fact that Mello didn't actually answer the question, didn't actually tell him what had happened to his parents, how they had died. He knew this was as far as he could get today, maybe as far as he ever would. But that was okay with him. He felt like he could understand Mello even if he never fully opened up, he could tell this was a great feat for him, and it was for him as well. Having a friend seemed complicated, but it made him feel the most at home, the most safe he had ever felt since his father's return. No matter what he told Mello, no matter how much certain things hurt to say out loud, he felt like it was worth saying them to have someone understand him this way, to stay and be his friend regardless. To stay and by staying, say I accept you, I like you and no matter what you do, I'll be here. That was where he thought home should be, with the people who you can feel that with. In such a short amount of time, he had found his home, in the warmth of the blue fires of Mello's eyes, in his harsh looks and his loud voice, so expressive and passionate and inviting Matt in while pushing everyone else away. And Matt was in, caught up in Mello and there to stay, he began to follow him wherever he would go.