Walls Came Tumbling Down

Matt unlocked the door to the bedroom, which he had once shared in this house with Mello. He had been given the key the night before, when it was thought that he might be sleeping in it. Fresh linen graced both of their beds, but the rest of the room was bare. He and Mello had stripped it of all personal belongings the year before. Matt closed the door and locked it, before curling up on his bed and lying, breathless, with his knees drawn up to his chin. He knew that he shouldn't be there. He should be downstairs, protecting Mello from the arseholes running rampant in this place. But Mello had survived the streets and the Mafia, before seeing off Kira, and Matt needed a moment to think.

His mind was running sluggishly, trapped in the low level panic and the buzzing of Seroxat withdrawal. He had been given just a quarter of a pill by an apologetic Madeleine. Matt would have kicked off, but Salvo and Century were both watching and showing such weakness would never do. He took the little plastic cup with the crushed powder inside and left with as much dignity as he could muster. They knew. They had to know; and everyone surely had deduced that it wouldn't end there. Matt was already plotting revenge, just not with any real coherency.

He was trapped. Mello, for all of his bravado, couldn't safely be moved. Lauren had been in the bathroom with the Welsh nurse, so she didn't witness the scene in the infirmary. Though Matt rationalised that wasn't her fault, it still peeved him. He wanted to lash out and hang the lot of them, in whatever way his genius could devise. Chrissie had been sleeping, or unconscious; she was supposed to be his lawyer. Ann was nowhere to be seen and the cameras kept on following his every move. There were none in here. He had checked that first, as soon as he had entered his old room. Matt felt dizzy and sick. There was a rushing sound in his ears.

There were footsteps and a knock on his door. Matt lay there rigid, not responding. The gruff voice of one of the caretakers called through. "Meeting in the common room. L has an announcement." Matt did not answer. Of course they knew he was in there. There were cameras in the corridor. He bit down hard on his lip, tasting iron. "Everyone is supposed to go and hear it."

Matt stared into space, unwilling to move for anything. Then it occurred to him that the bastards in this Institution might just force Mello into going into the common room too. Matt hurried off the mattress, onto his feet, then swayed. He clutched the empty bedside cabinet and succeeded in steadying himself. Reason followed that they really wouldn't move Mello, but he had left his husband alone too long. Mello was probably already secretly planning divorce, this would be one more excuse to dump Matt.

The footsteps carried on towards the main staircase. Matt took a deep breath and lunged for the door. He was fine. His balance was more sure in actuality than it felt like it should be. He was able to leave the room and even start jogging along the passageway. Yet the staircase gaped beneath him, with a vertigo jolt, and he had to grasp the bannister. It was difficult to discern how much of this was in his head and how much was real. He hadn't slept all night and that was telling in the mix. The symptoms of withdrawal had only begun in earnest, when he had realised that he wasn't going to be given the full half a pill. It could be psychosomatic. He reached the ground floor hallway, hearing the excited chatter of children's voices, and seeing Hal with two caretakers, looking grim, as they glanced into his direction.

Matt ignored them. He fished out the second of his two keys and unlocked the door into Mr Wammy's old quarters. Mello watched him enter. The Slav's left eye twitched, before he blinked properly. Matt closed the door and stood against it. "Near's calling everyone into the common room. Announcement from fucking L."

"Ok." Mello replied, cautiously. The silence hung laden between them.

Matt exhaled and reached for his cigarettes, then stopped. "Fuck!" He growled. "I forgot your coffee and chocolate!"

"You don't forget." Mello commented. "What's happened?"

"Don't worry about it." Matt reached again for the door-knob. "I'll get them."

Mello looked at him with tired incredulity. "Mail, don't fucking patronise me. What's going on out there?"

Hal was outside, as Matt opened the door. She was holding a laptop. "You requested this; and Near has an Institution wide announcement." The Old English font L was already in the centre of the screen. Matt froze, genuinely at a loss in knowing what to do now. He stared at the laptop like it was toxic. Hal raised her eyebrows. "You want me to bring it in?"

"Hal!" Mello growled from the bed. "You and I need to have a little chat." He flashed what he hoped was a chilling smile, but suspected was just exhausted.

She took a step forward and Matt nearly let her in, but he caught himself in time. "Is that connected?" Matt stood immobile in the doorway. Hal nodded. "Mello, Near can hear us."

Mello blinked, visibly startled, but quickly recovering. He waited a beat, then spoke calmly, "Near." There was no response, so Mello's lip curled up into a sneer. But there was also uncertainty in his eyes.

Matt stood his ground, though all he wanted to do was lie down or lash out. "We don't want to speak with Near. Bye bye."

Hal sighed and made to reply, but Mello interrupted her. "Mail, let the lady through. Might as well make it two birds, one stone." He shifted slightly, like he was going to sit up, but then just lay there. Matt stepped back, drawing heavily on his cigarette and not letting go of the edge of the door. Mello's eyes swivelled towards the laptop, then narrowed. "What do you want, Near?"

There was a sudden electronic scuffling noise, then Near's masked voice sounded, "Mello." On the bed, the Slav frowned in disdain. Near went on. "I am sorry. I was not in front of my microphone."

"Fine." Mello retorted, in a tone that suggested it was anything but fine. "Shoot."

Matt leaned up against the wall, with one hand still holding the door open. He wanted Hal gone and this entire circus out of their lives. He heard Near ignoring Mello, in favour of addressing the messenger. "Hal, are all of the children listening?"

"Yes, Near."

"And the alumni too?"

Hal and Mello had locked gazes. Matt couldn't see enough of Hal's expression to discern what was going on. He released the door and, as it swung shut, he traipsed onto his mattress and slipped down onto his knees. It elicited a glance from Mello. Hal heard Near say her name. She answered him. "Yes, there are laptops in the infirmary too. Luigi and Linda are listening with the children. Deontic has connected remotely."

Mello scowled. "I want Deontic back here. New priority. Make it happen."

At the same time, Near said, "Thank you, Hal."

Hal sharply placed the laptop down onto the bedside cabinet. "I'm going to do my duty and be with the children. I'll be back later, Mello, then we can discuss priorities."

"No. I want..." Mello began, but Hal had already walked out. Matt hated her for humiliating Mello in front of Near. Matt watched her leave, willing himself to follow, but instead he sat down hard. "One moment, Near, then you may speak." Mello spoke breezily. "Mail, on here beside me."

Matt didn't want to do that either, but to rebel was worse in the circumstances. He paused to muster the will to stand, then crawled the short distance to the foot of the bed. He pulled himself up, inadvertently depressing the springs. But if that caused Mello pain, then the Slav didn't show it. He merely watched Matt, with a stony stare, as his husband eased himself into the space beside Mello. It was good to be lying down, though that didn't stop the nausea, nor the sensation of falling. Matt was finding it so hard to rationalise his symptoms. He was worse now than before he had had the Seroxat. He pondered whether it had been a substitute and if he was poisoned. Hatred for Madeleine swamped all sensibility, but he still lay there and Mello still stared. Matt jabbed a finger towards the laptop, hoping that his sharp expression communicated eloquently enough that Mello should do whatever he needed to do there first.

Mello shifted his gaze to the ceiling. "Near, you are watching us using a webcam. There is no other reason that you would have shut up when I told you to."

"Yes."

"Well, it's not convenient to talk right now. I will schedule you in later." Mello couldn't move to sever the connection. It took Matt several seconds to realise that was his cue to do it; but by then Near had long since continued and Mello stopped his husband with a hand on his thigh.

"The Institution is under attack." Near told them. "A loop-hole in the Resolution was exploited by Fenian and he betrayed us to the Irish government. I was offered the chance to start again with a second Wammy's House, over which I could have full control." He paused, then clarified it, as if they wouldn't already have worked out the implications. "No more committees. My own institution, which could by-pass the first one and disregard you all." On the bed, Matt raised his head. It span. He surveyed the laptop blearily, but Mello's hand lay against him. "A new Wammy's House, which could learn from the mistakes of the first and perhaps it would be better."

Mello released a breath, "What is this bull?"

"It doesn't matter." Matt whispered, his face buried again in the pillow. "I'm tearing the fucking place down anyway."

Mello's forehead creased and he didn't reply. Near was talking. "I wanted you to all hear this conversation, between myself and Mr Michael O'Neill, who was empowered to speak on behalf of the Taoiseach of Ireland." There was a single clicking sound. "Please will you play the recording, Mr Rester." They listened in silence to the negotiations and the Irish politician's smooth enticements. Near didn't interject to contextualise nor clarify anything.

"Shit." Mello hissed softly. "I bet Hal's getting Hell in the common room. The kids will be shitting themselves."

Matt peered across and he was startled to find Mello watching him. "Do you care about this?"

They heard more of the practically one-sided conversation, the endless temptation of Michael O'Neill. Mello was deep in thought, when he suddenly spoke, "Consolidate our bases first."

"What I said in the first place."

"We're not going home."

Matt pushed himself up onto his elbows, fury flashing through him. He was as close as he'd ever been to smacking Mello in the mouth and just walking out of there without him. Mello's eyes widened, so Matt knew that his own emotion told in his features. Panic flooded in its wake and still the voice of O'Neill went on. Matt turned around and sat up, with his back against the headboard. He lit a cigarette.

Mello murmured, "We need to talk." Matt nodded and shuffled down the bed towards its foot. He had every intention of throwing the laptop into the hallway and savouring the smash. "Stop." Mello rasped, more loudly. "After this." He met Matt's exasperated look with a pained grimace. "I'm trying my fucking best, Mail! Can I just have some back up here?"

"Near's listening to you." Matt told him, blandly. "And watching."

"I know." Mello countered. There was tension in the air between them. "Near, I need Ann or Madeleine in here please. If you're spying on us, you're doing the same with every laptop relaying this shit. Tell them that we need them." Matt froze, unable to comprehend what Mello was doing. Mello's chin rose slightly. "I always loved you more than my pride. You're breaking my balls, but this is all I can do for you."

Swathes of smoke rose before Matt's face. He asked, quietly, "What?"

"I see you, baby." Mello answered, cryptically. "'Like a sentence of death, I've got no options left, I've got nothing to show now.'" He spoke the words, but they were the lyrics to Rob Dougan's 'Furious Angels'. "'I'm down on the ground.'" He skipped the line about having seconds to live. "'And you can't go now.'"

Matt felt it like a jolt. His whole body swayed and he stuck out a hand to stop himself falling. But his bad feeling was draining away and wonder filled the void. Mello smiled. Matt blinked, unsure what had just happened to him. "I..."

"Guapo." Mello spoke over whatever incoherent sentiment Matt could have expressed. "Lie back beside me."

Madeleine opened the door to their room and stepped nervously inside. She wasn't alone. Salvo flanked her. But it was the medic who spoke, "What's the matter?"

Mello inclined his head, but he addressed his husband. "Lie beside me." There was strain in the lines of his face, but his tone was strong. "Beside me." Matt returned to his position on the bed. "Thank you." Mello smiled. The voice of O'Neill droned on. "Salvo, thank you for escorting Madeleine. No harm is going to come to her. No-one is going to hold her hostage or, say, threaten to destroy the Institution." Through the laptop's speakers, the Irish diplomat's words sought to refute that. "No-one. Not Near. Not Fenian. Not Mail. Now Madeleine," Mello fixed a charming smile towards her. "I want the rest of his medication. Now is, most certainly, not the time for this shit."

Madeleine looked wretched, "In the long run..."

"No." Mello snapped. "We will deal with it in the long run. Right now, right here, I want his medication and if I have to get off this bed and get it myself, it will happen." He grit his teeth. "If I have to get it delivered, it will come. Do the right thing." There was silence, but for the voice of Michael O'Neill. Matt stared at his husband, shaken, trying to work out if this was love or betrayal or a little bit of both. It was costing Mello a lot, they could all see that. "Salvo."

"Mello?"

"This isn't the time. Will you help me?"

The African's gaze slid from Mello to Matt and back. "I'm not sure that I agree with you. Can I give you my observations first? See where we go from there."

Mello's head shrank into his shoulders. "Yes."

"I think there's a whole lot of paranoia going on in this house." Salvo gestured towards the laptop. "And not just in this house." He surveyed Mello. "If I can guarantee his safety, will you let this happen?"

"By 'this' you mean easing him off his medication?"

Matt gasped, "The fuck?"

Salvo nodded, speaking without emotion, "Yes."

"I can't reciprocate." Mello replied, the words drawn out of him. "And you have your wife and kid here."

Matt reeled back the foot that it took to have his back against the wall on the bed. It sounded for all the world like Mello was telling them that he couldn't control his husband; that Matt was dangerously unstable. Matt turned the words over in his head, unable to believe that he had heard them. He couldn't find another meaning. Reality shifted, as comprehension dawned. Of course Mello would say that. Matt had tried to kill him. This was Mello, fragile and powerless, keeping his husband sweet, until he was strong enough to safely divorce him. "Mell."

"Mail, trust me." Mello hissed. "Sal, do you want my balls on a plate? Look at this, eh?" His eyes flickered towards the laptop. "Please."

Salvo gestured helplessness. "It's not my decision." He bowed his head under Mello's withering look. "And I'm not in a position to be making waves."

"These are waves." Mello glared. Matt was rigid, not wanting to accept what was being said here. He stared into space, ignoring them. "This is a fucking tsunami. Name your price."

"Oh for fuck's sake." Salvo sighed, turning away. Madeleine had her hand over her mouth. "Mello, you're safe. He's safe. The pair of you are getting the best medical care that this Institution can provide. There's no threat from my camp. I can have a word with Linda and Luigi." He looked back towards the bed. "Ensure no grief from that quarter."

Before Mello could respond, Near's voice cut through the speakers. It took them a moment to realise that it was pre-recorded. It had been so long since he had participated in the conversation with O'Neill that they had half forgotten that this wasn't a monologue. In sudden silence, they heard the negotiations concerning Fenian's life. They heard Near request custody and how quickly O'Neill surrendered his asset. Matt was barely listening, too pre-occupied with Mello's actions. Salvo stood staring in shock at the laptop. Madeleine cried out, "Oh no! They can't do that!" And Mello closed his eyes.

"They all respect you, Sal."

"Do they?" Salvo rubbed his forehead with his finger and thumb, pinching the skin like he had a headache developing. "And if they do, why should I give that up to help you and Matt? I might need any respect I've earned further down the line to help me and mine."

Mello nodded, "By then, you'd have our respect and I would be in your debt."

Matt's gaze finally fastened onto his husband. "You're saying all of this in front of Near."

"I know that."

Salvo spoke loudly, "Near, if you have Fenian, then are we allowed to know what you plan to do with him?" The recording had finished. The link had gone silent. "Is this a charge of espionage? Treason? He's going to need counsel."

Matt felt like he had stepped into an alternate universe; one where Mello was unintelligent and not insanely competitive. "So why are you involving Sal? If I wanted the meds, I'd fucking well go in there and take them. In fact, why are we still even here? I have..." He stopped dead, realising that he had mentioned medication in front of his Wammy's House peers. It was a weakness that could be used against him. It was too late for that. They already knew. "Time to go home."

"Sal." Mello spoke sharply. "Can you deal with this?"

Salvo's jaw dropped. "And can you give a fuck about whether Fenian ever makes it back out of a prison cell? I might be more inclined to scratch your back then!"

"Stop." Mello looked exhausted. "Near, tell them that you just saved Fenian's life, so they know he's safe. Mail, why are you not trusting me? Sal, take a long, hard look at me and listen to the subtext, because Mail sure as Hell is; only he's jumping the wrong bloody way!"

In the troubled silence that followed, Near spoke. He sounded almost nonchalant. "Fenian is not safe."

Mello's eyes shot open. "What?"

"Fenian is stupid. He should have deduced that the possibility of L is worth more than the actuality of F. That is the error that cost him this move."

Salvo growled, "What have you done to Fenian?" While Mello made to shift, resulting in a strangled gasp of pain. Madeleine rushed to his side, picking her way over the mattress on the floor. "Near! Tell me!"

Near's flat, electronic voice was evidently responding to something said in another room. "Century should calm down."

Matt glared, as Madeleine touched Mello. "We're going home." Matt told her, stonily. "Mello, I'm taking you home."

"Near." Salvo leaned before the laptop, with both hands upon the bedside cabinet. He was blocking Near's view of the rest of the room. "Tell me what you mean by that. Tell me where Fenian is and why he isn't safe."

"I'm sorry, Mail." Mello hissed. "I'm not going home with you." Matt heard the words like a sledgehammer. His lips formed a 'what?', but he couldn't speak it. "Eventually yes, but not right now. We both went down at the same time, baby, we can't."

Near spoke, calmly, "Madeleine should go to the infirmary. Lauren should get back into bed." He paused, as Salvo stood straight. "Thank you, Mr Gevanni. Yes, I am aware, Ms Lidner."

Salvo softly commented, "The house is in uproar, isn't it? This is cruel, Near. Don't play your games here, when people are ill."

"I am not playing a game, Salvo. I am prioritising whom I answer." Near sounded annoyed. "Century is having a panic attack and Mr Gevanni is helping him."

Salvo grit his teeth. "You're not the only person in crisis here, Mello."

Mello nodded, as Madeleine raced away, out of the door. "I know that, Sal. Get him his meds, so he can help you." Mello was unsuccessfully trying to reach Matt's hand. Matt frowned at his attempts and pulled his hand away. "Mail, you're being a child." Mello bit his lip as soon as he had said it, but the words were out there.

"Near, tell me about Fenian." Salvo had already taken steps towards the door, anxious to get back to the infirmary. "Tell me why he isn't safe."

"Mail, please, you're breaking my fucking balls." Mello closed his eyes, utterly spent. "Salvo, if you're not going to help me, then can you and Near take this drama somewhere else? I need to sort out my husband."

Near replied, "Fenian escaped from custody at the airport. He took a taxi to Frontage Road, in Newark, New Jersey and entered the Sheraton Hotel. He did not check in. He did not come out again. He is not in the Sheraton Hotel."

"Then where is he?" Salvo asked, at the very limit of his patience.

"That's obvious. Fenian is underground." Near replied bluntly. "Where else would he go?"

Salvo sighed and left the room. Matt hurried to get off the bed, away from Mello, to close the door and lock it. "Bye." He told Near laconically, then broke the connection. The rushing in Matt's ears had turned into buzzing. He looked around for what needed to be packed. They had precious little there, but he did have a laptop now. There was a sniff and Matt turned. Tears slid from Mello's tightly shut eyes. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." Mello rasped, against all of the evidence. "Just fucking lie down." Then he turned his face away.