Walls Came Tumbling Down

Tears slid down Mello's face. He was making no effort to disguise his discomfort and upset now. There was chocolate in his hand, but that was halfway down the length of the settee. His face was half-turned into Matt's chest and the tears came steady and hot. Matt had one arm draped down, across Mello's neck and onto his chest. The other hand held his cigarette. He felt very powerless to do anything.

"The thing is," Mello gasped, "the actual thing is I'm so tired, and in pain, and in shock, and I can't think and I can't do anything if you don't talk to me." One foot weakly kicked out. It scraped his heel against the cushion, but nothing more. "I fucking hate this. Being helpless and on a drip and nowhere to talk. People fucking everywhere. Drama and you kicking off."

Matt breathed, "Sorry."

"Everything going wrong."

Matt put the cigarette in his mouth and reached down to wipe the tears from Mello's face. "Can I do anything?" As he put his hand by Mello's mouth, Mello kissed it, sucking a finger in and breathing heavily on it. "You want a blow job?" Matt ventured. Mello shook his head. The tears were still coming, but he wasn't attempting to talk anymore. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say." They half sat, half lay there in silence for long minutes, until Mello's tears subsided and he simply looked worn out. Matt wiped his husband's face again, but Mello's eyes didn't open. Matt softly asked, "Do you want me to get you back into the infirmary?"

Mello sniffed. His voice was raw, "Mail, what's the one thing that you are terrified of right now?"

"Losing you."

"Not going to happen." Mello swallowed, fidgeting to try and find a position to lay in that didn't hurt him. But the fidgeting itself ached and he stopped. He checked the drip with a flicker of his eyes, beneath wet lashes, but it was still working. He lay still again. "Is that why you won't tell me about the Resolution thing? Because you're scared I'll leave you?"

"Yes."

Mello moaned, irritably. "Just tell me, baby. I'm going to find out anyway." He sniffed loudly and added miserably, "I might laugh."

Matt hesitated, then he reached for the framed copy, that was propped up on the back of the settee. Quietly, utterly devoid of emotion, he talked Mello through it. Mello opened his eyes when he read, but kept them shut during the explanations. He never once interrupted. Matt finished and waited. Mello said nothing. Matt bit his lip. "What are you thinking, Mello?"

"I'm too tired to care." Mello retorted, distantly. His face burrowed further towards Matt's chest, then returned, as it was too hot. "They can't go off on you. We all read it and signed it. Hasn't been yours for a year." Above his head, Matt exhaled. "But neither has Wammy's House. It's Hal's baby they're destroying now."

"Reckon it's going to be destroyed?"

Mello began to pull down the zip on his top. "Hot."

Matt helped him open the leather vest up. The wounds beneath were hidden in dressings. None of them were seeping. Matt stared at them and bowed his head. He asked, barely audibly, "Do you really believe that I didn't shoot you? Deep down, I mean." He watched Mello's eyes open and peer up at him. He held the contact. "The worst moment of my life, when I realised that that wasn't an hallucination."

Mello whispered. "I turned around because the voice wasn't yours. The face wasn't yours either. You didn't shoot me, but something inside you did. I'm having nightmares."

"The shadow man came. It felt evil. The next thing that I knew, I was in the house, but there were vague memory flashes of your face as you fell. You looked betrayed, Mello."

Mello blinked slowly at him, "We are getting past this. One day, when I have all of my faculties about me, we'll compare every memory and find out what happened." He tried to smile. "For now, we know that you didn't shoot me. I can't bear more than that." He inched his hand upwards, seeking out his husband's. Matt reached and held it. "Stronger than that. Me and you. Forged in fucking fire."

Matt gave him a tiny smile. "Die for you. Kill for you."

"Ditto." But Mello closed his eyes. "Only I didn't, did I? It was left for you to pick up the mess this morning." He looked like he was going to start crying again. Matt bent down and kissed Mello's closed eyes. "Shouldn't have lasted this long." Mello muttered. "Neuron. Should have..."

"Shhh." Matt kissed his lips. On some distant level, Matt could still feel the gristle snapping and the sound of a hollow breath. He could remember, in all of its sensory horrors, how it was to garrote a teenager to death. But that felt like someone else, a long time ago. He knew that he was still in shock. He let himself be cushioned there. "Shhh."

Mello's eyes opened. "Is this killing you, baby? Holding me. Letting me be," he looked crestfallen, lost, "weak." There was an anxious searching in his gaze. Matt shook his head. He was fine. "This is on my list. My twenty things, our boundaries, your bondage. Cuddles and tenderness."

"Is it?" Matt knew that this was not the time to contest nor clarify anything. Just to become comfortable in each other's vicinity again.

Mello nodded slowly, just twice, and rested against him. "I know that scares the shit out of you." His hand was slipping out of Matt's grip, listless. He caught it. "Just want to lie in your arms now and sleep. Right now."

"Sleep then."

"Not like this. Like before. In the infirmary." Mello was fading.

Matt nodded. "I'll take you back."

"No. Here."

Matt inspected the width of the settee. It wasn't wide enough. It wasn't even a proper living room settee; it was designed for visitors in an office. He considered pulling the adjacent settee over or just lying on the coffee table. He peered down to see if it was on casters and noticed the mess over by the wall. That wasn't his problem. Mello's hand was dropping out of his own again. Matt looked down. Mello was asleep. So much for their chat.

There was nothing that Matt could do but sit there, supporting Mello's body and listening to his breathing. No game console nor anything to read. He was alone with his thoughts and the peacefulness of no-one watching him. Matt peered around the room and eventually spotted the camera, half-concealed above the bank of six monitors. Various scenes from Wammy's House played out, a soap opera in real time. None of them showed this office. Matt wondered if Hal even knew. He bent and kissed Mello's forehead. His husband didn't stir.

Mello's tears were worrying. They had started in earnest after the second time that the witch bottle was removed. Sobbing during that was permissible, but Mello had been losing it for a long time afterwards. Matt contemplated emergency provision, like a hacksaw hidden under their bed. He watched Mrs Carnegie orchestrating the serving of a meal and realised that he'd lost all concept of time. Today had gone on forever. He glanced at the clock. One o'clock in the afternoon. He saw Ann carrying Neuron's sister, Kato, down the stairs and dreaded that they might come in here.

He had killed Neuron. Matt felt the reality of that finally strike home. He didn't know whether he felt horror or pride more; there was satisfaction. There was the adrenaline kick of the moment played out in slow motion and technicolour. The ringing racket of the guns. Had he killed Neuron? There had been so much gunfire that surely a bullet there had delivered the final wound. Kato was clinging to Ann, with a dull expression that looked frightening in a six-year-old. They turned into a corridor. They would be going for food.

Mello murmured something and Matt switched his attention to him. "What?"

"And I want you off the Seroxat." Mello informed him, as if he'd never fallen asleep. Matt glanced at the clock, delaying a response as the fear of that drenched him. Mello had slept for just over twelve minutes. It had felt like longer. "And you need to take more responsibility during sex. If I'm going too far, you have to stop it. It's too much for just me." Mello's eyes opened. "Ok?"

Matt swallowed, "You were asleep, Mell. You just woke up."

Mello appeared a little startled about that. He looked up at Matt, like he was waiting for the redhead to admit that he was joking. Then he just plunged on anyway. "I know that's not making you happy, but we are going to get your medication right. For the first time in your life, you'll have it right."

"My..." Matt began, but he didn't have the rest of the sentence all lined up. Mello was practically telling him that he wasn't right in the head here. Any other time, he would have protested loudly and defended his corner on this one, but he couldn't. Not with Mello being in this state and the memory of the days, when he thought he had lost him, being so fresh. "We'll work on it."

Mello looked grateful. Some of the stress eased from his features and Matt realised how much Mello had dreaded saying that. He wondered if Mello had ever been asleep at all, or just putting off those requests. "Tell me your twenty, guapo." Mello asked, in a tiny voice. "Tell me."

Matt dared not tell him that he had nothing written down, even in draft form. There were little niggles, but there always had to be in a marriage. Most of the big ones had been ironed out by the time they were twelve. They'd shared a room for most of their lives. There was nothing that Mello did that Matt couldn't stand. He had thought about it long and hard, while in his cell, but all that had popped into his mind had been crossed out. Mello was waiting. "I haven't finished." Matt replied, as a stop-gap.

"Number one. You don't want me to make jokes at your expense in public, especially any pertaining to your height." Mello smiled. "Number two. I'm not to discuss things with Hal, that are better discussed with you, about our relationship."

"That's the sort of thing that you have on your list?" Matt frowned. He had been thinking the contract would have more to do with sex.

Mello closed his eyes, "Whatever you want to write on it." He paused. "But you will write on it. No more trying to guess what really matters to you."

Matt bent down over his husband's head. "Can't I take you home? Do we have to stay here?" Inches beneath his face, Mello was still faintly smiling. He nodded once. "Is that I can take you home?" He watched Mello shake his head. Matt sighed and sat up. He checked Mello's drip again and lit another cigarette. He would push Mello on this during the next bout of consciousness. Matt cocked his head to the side, leaning with his elbow on the back of the settee, and contemplated life without his anti-depressants. It was a terrifying prospect. He considered fighting for them. Then imagined what it must be like to be Mello right now. To have had your husband shoot you twice, in that lonely, creepy place, then be left for dead. Right now, he'd give him the world on a plate, if he could.

Matt focused on the door and his mind's eye saw the staircase outside; and up the stairs, a corridor; and down the corridor, a row of doors. Their door, with their bedroom beyond. So many cold turkeys, wracked on the bed in white hot fever and cold sweats. The fear of them came from experience. Matt's eyes burned, filming over; thus he jumped, hard, when the door suddenly opened and Hal walked in. Mello stirred with the movement, though it still took him several seconds to open his eyes. Hal winced at the sight of him and carefully closed the door again. She began with a whisper, until Mello woke. "The children are all in the refectory, so the route is clear. Do you want me to get a trolley brought down here for him?"

"Yes." said Matt.

"No." said Mello.

Matt squeezed his arm more tightly around his husband. "Yes, please, Hal. It hurts him too much in the wheelchair. Mello, I'll ensure that the route is clear." A smile played on Hal's lips, then she spotted the smashed crockery and her face fell. Matt shook his head. "It wasn't me. About the only fucking thing which wasn't me today, but it wasn't."

Hal didn't contradict him. Mello fixed her with a pleading look. "Can't we just stay here?" His mind sluggishly caught up with the day's events. "Any word about Lauren and Chrissie?"

"They're both going to be fine." Hal assured him. Mello nodded, starting to cry again. "You're alright, Mello. You've got your Mail and you're going to be looked after here."

Matt stroked Mello's stomach. "What are their injuries?" He asked. "I couldn't see. Neuron was in the way."

Hal nodded. "Lauren was shot in the shoulder, but she'd got a chair up. It went through that first, shattered the chair. She's got a long mark on her arm, where it passed, then in her shoulder and out. Unfortunately, they had to pick bits of chair out of her; and she concussed herself on the wall behind." She said it all gently, so not to startle Mello. But he was just listening, sniffing back tears. "Chrissie got it in the chest and also sustained a serious head wound. But they're both fine." She smiled. "And you're fine. Lauren's awake."

"Shit." Mello breathed. "Should have been there."

"It's ok. Madeleine and Mrs Evans were both there. So were Salvo and Century. Century has been sitting with her."

Mello and Matt exchanged glances. Matt whispered, guiltily, "She never fucking left my side." He waited until Mello nodded, before adding, "But Century is bound to kick off. Our room?"

Hal shook her head. "Infirmary. Sorry, but I'm not asking anyone to get Mello up those stairs." She shrugged apologetically. "As for Century, this will be the Resolution saga?" She glanced at the wall and was confused to find her copy no longer up there. "It's all around the Institution. Kids know too. I'm not worrying about it until I know exactly what's going on. I recommend that you don't either." She picked up her 'phone and confirmed the request for a trolley bed. "Matt," Hal said, as she put down the receiver, "your own bed, upstairs, has been made up for you. I'll have your suitcase taken up. And no, before either of you even ask. Cute as it is to see you clinging onto each other, there are other patients in there. If Salvo can agree to leave Chrissie there, you can leave Mello."

Matt stared at her blankly, already resolving not to go. Mello bit his lip, "But Hal..."

"No. And Matt is here due to Near's unilateral decision, which has raised some eyebrows. Not to mention the Resolution tension. Please just don't add to it." She sighed. "I haven't mentioned the chain-smoking in my office. Just stop pushing. Both of you."

Matt pointed to the screens. "There's a camera filming you up there."

Hal nodded. "I know." She surveyed him grimly. "But thank you for the head's up." They could all hear the trolley trundling towards the door. Hal crossed the room to open it. With a great deal of gritted teeth and tension, Mello allowed himself to be lifted onto the bed. The caretakers both stood by to assist, but it was Matt who laid his husband on it. Agony showed in the strain on Mello's white face, but he didn't utter a sound. Hal watched it all with a sigh. "You should not have been moved from the infirmary. You probably shouldn't have been moved from Wales." They both ignored her.

Matt's gaze darted over the monitor screens, before he nodded to Hal to open the office door again. "Reception clear." He stated, before hurrying outside ahead of the trolley.

"Mail!" Mello barked, as the caretakers began pushing him out. Matt had got as far as the common room door, which he closed, and he was en route to the corridor along which they would be travelling. He ran back, meeting the trolley partway across the hall. Mello gave him a stony glare, with his teeth tightly grit and reached out a hand. Matt held it. He got the message. Mello would rather he was with him, than clearing the way ahead. Matt glanced at Hal and took the drip from her. He nodded for her to go on and she did. It was unnecessary. The children were all dining and so they reached the infirmary without seeing a soul.

The curtains were still drawn across, but it was much quieter now, without the bustle of medical activity. They could hear the low vibration of Salvo murmuring something, then Madeleine appeared through the partition. She moved with the stoic professionalism of one who had seen too much this day. But she waited for Mello to be lifted back into his bed, before stepping in to check his drip. "How are you feeling?" Madeleine asked quietly. Behind her, the caretakers stepped out, closing the door behind them, while Hal continued on further into the room. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

Mello's jaw was clenched too tightly to respond. He was shuffling on the mattress, trying to find a position wherein he needn't move for a substantial length of time. Matt replied for him. "He gets drowsy on this medication and he's still in pain."

"We can up the dosage." Madeleine calmly commented.

Mello hissed, "No." Then lay back on the bed.

Madeleine wasn't about to argue with him. "Let's get you back into your pyjamas." She was eyeing the jeans and cast Matt a disapproving look.

Matt shook his head. "I'll do that."

She looked dubiously at Matt's broken finger, but raised her own hands in surrender. "I'll be back in ten minutes to see how you are going on. Be careful of the drip." She started to walk away, but looked back. "Have you eaten yet?" Matt shook his head, picking up the pyjamas from where they'd been draped over Mello's suitcase. She disappeared back inside.

Matt closed the curtains around Mello's bed and slowly helped him change. Mello lay, gasping and exhausted, once they had succeeded in getting him, pyjamaed and prone, under the quilt. Matt kissed him, quietly commenting, "Didn't realise how much you were pushing it down before. Should have left you here."

Mello found a smile. "I could have done without Linda and Luigi. It's true." He glanced towards the right-hand wall of his curtains. "Check on Lauren."

Matt nodded, kissed him again and sauntered out. The fabric partition spanned the width of the room, but beyond it, neither Lauren nor Chrissie had their bed curtains pulled. Chrissie was unconscious or sleeping, with swatches of dressings encircling her crown and her vital statistics flowing across the monitor beside her. Sitting on a chair, next to her bed, Salvo held her hand. His back was just a few feet from the edge of Mello's cubicle, though the curtain and another bed separated them. Salvo surveyed Matt intently, then gave him a quick nod and smile. His son was nowhere to be seen.

Across the room, Lauren was sitting up, with pillows stuffed behind her. She had a drip, but no monitors. A gown hid her shoulder dressings, but her right arm was encased and smaller fixings of gauze dotted her head and neck. Century was sitting on the chair next to her, with an array of keys, lollipop wrappers and sticks, and assorted coinage arranged on the bed before them. Lauren was quietly laughing at whatever he had just told her, whilst pointing to a ten pence piece. They both looked up as Matt entered. Lauren looked relieved, but Century's expression turned blank.

"Matt," Lauren's voice was low, but welcoming, "you found Mello."

He nodded, not sure how closely he should approach. Madeleine and Hal were in deep conversation at the back of the room, on the other side of an empty bed from Chrissie. They both looked at him. Matt cautiously moved to the end of Lauren's bed and held onto the rail there. "Sorry we weren't here."

Lauren nodded across to the curtain. "Is Mello hiding behind there?"

"Yep."

Concealed, Mello quietly spoke up, "Hi. Sorry you got dragged into this shit. Are you alright?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that one." Lauren replied, smiling. "Apparently this infirmary has never been so full."

Madeleine marched down the central aisle and began pulling back the long curtain. Once he saw what she was doing, Salvo stood and withdrew its twin. Mello's bed was revealed, as a veiled island, within the context of the whole room. Matt bit his lip and whispered, "Hold on." He hurried back and spoke in hushed tones with his husband, then that curtain too was drawn back. Mello smiled weakly across at Lauren, while Matt stood rigidly at his side.

Lauren smiled back. "You look much better than you did last time I saw you. I thought you were gone."

"I'm a hard man to kill." Mello informed her, blithely. Madeleine had returned to Hal's corner. They were both watching the trio of camps carefully. "And I owe a lot of thanks to people in this room. Century, I understand that you drove the car that got me to hospital; and gathered the evidence that cleared Mail. Lauren, I don't even know where to begin on what you've done for us." His eyes flickered to Salvo's back. "Sal, I know what Chrissie was trying to do. I'm sorry that it's ended like this."

Salvo turned, then shifted his chair back against the wall. "She's going to be fine. Would have been a lot worse, if she hadn't been wearing a bullet-proof vest."

Mello blinked. Matt was just as startled, but he didn't show it. Mello frowned. "She was expecting this?"

"Not this, no." Salvo responded. "But she was concerned about other threats."

All of the alumni, except unconscious Chrissie, looked at Matt. He recalled his warnings about the Mafia and glanced down at Mello. Mello's eyes narrowed and Matt knew that he was aware of that conversation. "Oh." Mello squeezed his hand, though that felt more like 'we will discuss this' than reassurance. "Yeah."

Lauren intervened. "In fact, I'm the one who's hobbled poor Chrissie. If I hadn't lifted that damned chair, it wouldn't have shattered and she wouldn't have had me jerk and smack her in the head with it."

Mello frowned, trying to imagine the scene. "Did anyone film this?"

"Yes." Hal replied. "In detail, from three different angles."

Matt looked up, following the ceiling line and that of the ornamental plaster below. He found four cameras, strategically placed to cover the whole infirmary, though none of the feeds had been shown on the monitors in Hal's office. He met Hal's gaze and decided not to worry Mello with this. Mello's eyes were closing. "I should like to see that."

Salvo added, "But no-one's blaming you, Lauren. It was a survival situation and you did what you deemed necessary at the time. You didn't set out to hurt my wife."

"Thank you." Lauren replied. "But I still feel guilty about it. Same with you, Mello. If I could reverse time, I'd have stopped Matt leaving Aberystwyth."

"What's done's done." Mello whispered. Then cleared his throat to speak slightly louder. "And I want it made clear that I trust Mail with my life. He didn't shoot me. It wasn't Mail with that gun." He gulped audibly. "I'd like to read your report, Century, to finalise my own conclusions."

Century stared back, blankly, "Swap it for information about Fenian, I will."

Salvo sighed, "Cent, we agreed that this is a drama free zone."

Mello's eyes opened. "Amen the drama-free. Century, I've been flat on my back in various medical institutions. Mail's been in prison. I can assure you that neither of us are responsible for Fenian's disappearance." He could fix his stare upon Salvo more easily, so he did. "No-one knows what Fenian is up to. He could be exploring some hole somewhere, ignorant of the concern back here. But if something has happened vis-a-vis the Resolution, then we all agreed to it and we all signed it. It's all of our collective responsibility, if it hasn't worked as well as it should. We just work on improving it for next time."

"No arguments here, Mello." Salvo rumbled.

"Good."