Slight AU. Two weeks after L's death and Mello is still at Wammy's. Their ages have been changed as well. Consider Mello 18 and Matt 17.

And as for the reactions I am fairly sure this piece will get: No, I do not in any way think that this is anywhere close to canon. It's just an idea I thought of and decided to go with.

Please enjoy.

Mello allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he stared around the room he and Matt had shared for the last few years. His ice-blue eyes took in the burn in the carpet from when they were five and had thought that matches looked like fun. His eyes roved over the piles of dirty clothes and haphazard stacks of video games covering the bed that Matt hadn't slept in for a nearly a year and a half; the red-head preferring to splay his lanky limbs out all over Mello's bed at night. Finally his gaze settled on the fist-sized hole in the wall next to the door.

Mello cringed a little as he recalled the night nearly two weeks ago, when Roger had broken the news of L's death. Mello had kept his cool all the way out of Roger's office and down the corridor, only losing it when the door of his and Matt's bedroom had clicked shut behind him, ensuring that no one but Matt would be witness to Mello's embarrassing inability to deal with his emotions. Matt hadn't even flinched as Mello tore apart the room, only reacting when Mello put his fist through the wall. The red-head had immediately jumped up, grabbed Mello by the wrist and dragged him to the bathroom to shove his hand under a stream of cold water to reduce the swelling that had already started.

He hated the physical reminder in the very walls of the building itself that showed his lack of self control. But that would be irrelevant after tonight anyway. Tonight was it. The night that he and Matt would be leaving Wammy's forever. They had begun to plan their departure that same night that Roger announced L's death, plotting even as Matt wrapped an ace bandage around Mello's aching hand.

No more of this, thought Mello. No more waking at six a.m. every morning to go to nine consecutive hours of grueling classes. No more having to choke back his anger every time he came in second next to the little albino, Near. No more rules. No more-

Mello was distracted from his thoughts as Matt shifted in his sleep and began to snore lightly. Mello reached out and absent-mindedly began to stroke Matt's hair. Matt couldn't possibly know, but the gamer was half of Mello's inspiration for having the guts to leave Wammy's House in the first place.

Sure, it had to be done. There was no way around it really. There was no possible way for Mello to properly achieve his victory over Near if he was stuck here, where he would always be second best. But there was also the added bonus of living in a place where he and Matt could be open about their relationship, without the disapproving stares they received here. The adults of Wammy's always thought they were so careful to conceal the disdainful looks they shot the two boys, but Mello saw.

Mello always saw. He saw the way the teachers, Roger, Wammy, and even L himself on his rare visits, stared at him and Matt. He saw the barely concealed disgust in their eyes and heard it in their carefully chosen words when they spoke to the teens. Mello saw and did his best to hide the reactions of the adults from Matt. Poor, clueless Matt. It was better to let Matt live in his fantasy world where the princesses were always saved and the good guys always won in the end.

It was for Matt's sake that Mello kept his anger towards the adults bottled up. How dare they judge the two of them. What he and Matt had, that was pure. It was love. Somehow, in the midst of being raised to be unfeeling, cold, and heartless… he and Matt had found each other. How dare they be disgusted. They were the disgusting ones, the unfeeling ones.

Matt whimpered a little in his sleep and Mello quickly glanced down, startled to see that in his anger he had twisted a lock of Matt's hair around his fingers and pulled. Mello quickly untwisted the red strands and rubbed the slightly pink spot he had caused on Matt's scalp.

Forget them, thought Mello. He had more important things to think about tonight. He quickly leaned down to brush his lips against Matt's and then sat up and shoved the covers off of himself. He would let Matt get a few more precious minutes of sleep before they left. Mello had some things to take care of first.

They had already gathered packs full of food and water and enough money to tide them over until they found a steadier source of income. Matt could use his skills as a hacker to bring in money and Mello… Well, Mello could find some sort of job that suited his special 'talents'. Thanks to Matt's skills on the computer, they also had multiple fake ID's and bank accounts. They could live as anonymously as they pleased. There was no chance that anyone from Wammy's House would be able to track them down- not that Mello even thought they would try. Roger and the others would probably be thrilled to be rid of the little gay boys.

Suppressing another surge of anger at the adults that had shaped his life until this point, Mello made his way quietly to the door of the bedroom, throwing one last glance towards the bed to confirm that Matt was still fast asleep. Yes, they had all the fake identities they could possibly need. But what Mello wanted before they left… were their real ones.

He supposed that in the long run, who they really were didn't matter. Knowing more about his, or Matt's, past didn't change their futures in the slightest way. But still… he wanted to know. And he had an itching suspicion that leaving their personal files here wasn't the smartest move with a killer like Kira on the loose.

It was with these thoughts in mind, that Mello very quietly made his way through the maze of corridors between their bedroom and Roger's office. He knew that the older man kept the files of every student at Wammy's in those metal filing cabinets behind his desk. He had found it ridiculously easy to swipe the key earlier that day when Roger was breaking up a 'fight' between Matt and Near. Roger hadn't even thought to question the odd occurrence. He should have known that something was going on; Matt never fought with anyone.

Mello quickly reached the plain, dark wooden door that marked his destination. Slipping the key into the lock, he listened quickly for any approaching footsteps and upon hearing none, turned the key and let himself into the sparsely furnished office. He wasted no time in approaching the filing cabinet and sliding open the drawer marked 'K-M'. His own file should be there, under Keehl. He would retrieve Matt's in a moment.

He located the correct folder and quickly snatched it up, slightly surprised at how thin it was. Then again, he noticed, all the files were thin. Either not much was known about the children of Wammy's, or Roger only kept very limited information about each child.

He had meant to stay only long enough to grab both his and Matt's folder, but his curiosity got the better of him and he let the folder in his hands fall open to reveal the single, typed page within. The entire summary of his life before Wammy's; reduced to a single page of cold, typed text. He quickly scanned the page.

Mihael Keehl

Admitted: age 4

Birthday: December 13th, 1989

Allergies: None

Father: Unknown

Mother: Lydia Keehl

Notes: Displays violent tendencies, anger management courses suggested

Notes cont. on back of page

Mello quickly flipped the sheet over, interested to see what else they had deemed interesting enough to include in his profile.

While any other family relations are unknown, the mother returned approximately 10 months after initial visit with a second child (age 3). She stated at the time that the second boy shared the same father as the first but still refused to give a first name. However, the second child kept the father's surname. For additional information on second child, see file on Mail Jeevas.

Mail Jeevas.


Mello hardly noticed as the folder slipped from his hand and the paper fluttered to the floor. He felt his legs give out from under him and he fell to his hands and knees, shock perforating every fiber of his being.

Matt. His Matt… was actually… his brother? Mello couldn't wrap his mind around such an absurd concept. Because that's what it was really- absurd. There was no way. It was a joke, an elaborate joke. It had to be. Near had done this. Yes, that was what had happened. Near must have known Mello planned on leaving, and had decided to play a joke on Mello. Yes, that was all.

Except that it wasn't. Mello knew, he just refused to accept it. Matt couldn't be his brother. Not his Matt. Not the boy that he had hugged, and kissed, and loved, and- Mello gulped anxiously- slept with.

Oh god. Mello felt bile rising in his throat and he retched. His skinny frame shook as dry heaves racked his body. Hugged, kissed, and slept with. He had had sex with Matt. He had had sex with his brother. The implications of every touch, every whisper, and every night spent sleeping in each other's arms; they all came rushing back to Mello in a wave of pure, unadulterated guilt. And suddenly, it all made sense. Every disgusted look they had ever received from Roger, every time L had looked down disapprovingly, every time Wammy had insisted they be given separate rooms. They knew; had known for years. And they never said anything.

Mello's stomach turned and this time he felt actual vomit rising up. He clapped a hand over his mouth and swallowed hard, refusing to give in to nature. He kept his hand over his mouth until he felt the nausea pass, although the lead weight of guilt stayed in his throat. He shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts. He still had things to do tonight. He quickly gathered up the fallen folder and paper, folded them, and stuck them into the waistband of his pants. He stood and for a fleeting moment, let his hand hover over the handle to the drawer containing files 'A-J'. In the space of second, he made a heart-wrenching decision. He turned on his heel and fled Roger's office, not even bothering to lock the door, with only his own file in hand.

He ran down the hallways, all thoughts of stealth behind him. He didn't stop once he reached the front doors of the orphanage, but instead threw them open and continued out into the night. He didn't allow himself to stop, because he knew if he did, he would think, and hesitate, and turn back. He couldn't allow himself to do that.

Only later, when he was miles away on a stained, plastic seat at a train station, would Mello allow himself to think. And when he did that, the blonde would be struck by the insatiable need to wash his hands over and over again, until they were raw and bleeding, and even then, it would not be enough to wash away the filth he felt all over him. It would never be enough to just wash himself. The stain of what he had done would be with him the rest of his life.

And Matt. He would never again allow himself to think of Matt. To think of Matt and the confusion and pain the red-head must have felt when he woke that next morning, with no Mello by his side. Not even a note to explain where Mello had gone and why he had left Matt behind.

There are some secrets that Matt was better off not knowing.

Reviews? Please and thank you.

Opinions: Should I write a sequel exploring Matt's reaction upon waking up?

Beta-ed by the fabulous Emo-Nerdy-Insane-Writer.