It was funny how Wammy's House thought we could be protected by ranking us and slapping an alias on us. Not "haha" funny either. It was like the kind of funny when you're sure someone's following you or you think there's one more step at the top of the staircase and your foot falls through air. It leaves you feeling sick or disturbed or wanting to throw up. If you're really lucky, it's a combination of all three. And for all the effort they put into to it, they did a pretty shitty job. Tons of people die everyday without anything about them having to be known. What happens if we suddenly get hit by a freak tornado? Well apparently we're all screwed. Anyway like I was saying, it was totally ridiculous. They acted like it was that easy to put a lid on the past. That it was easy to forget whatever hell landed you in this orphanage in the first place.

Besides it's impossible to keep secrets from kids. They end up weaseling something out of you without even trying. Taking that into account and you get an unspoken rule at Wammy's. You spill what got you there in the first place, and keep your mouth shut about anything else. Even without that it wasn't hard to imagine what happened to us all. All it took was a little practice and some talent with psychoanalysis. Take Near for example.

The kid dresses completely in white. Head to toe. No varying shades in between. He's stuck with one view of the world, completely pure and blank in the most depraved way. He was abandoned on the front steps. His parents even left a freaking number for us to call. They didn't want anything to do with him. They said something was wrong with him, with his white hair and black eyes. How he never cried or even spoke. Just stuck with his toys. You ever wonder why someone like Near wanted to be L so bad?

It's because he wants to be needed. He doesn't like people, but he still wants to be needed by someone. That's why he only plays with toys like cars and action figures. If he walks away, they won't go on without him. They'll be frozen in whatever positions he leaves them in; patiently waiting for the next game. That's how Near has forced himself to see life. He's a player and we're all just his pawns, stuck in our own little stories until he decides to change the rules.

If Near is white, then Mello is black. Full of bitterness over what he's lost. Unlike the rest of us, he's had the taste of the forbidden. Of family. Of love. And now he's busy flipping the world off for screwing him over. He watched them die, you know. His mom told him to hide in the closet. He watched while his mom, dad, and little sister were shot. They each took a bullet to the head. That's all it took to end Mello's happy life. You ever wonder why someone like Mello wants to be L?

It's because he's angry and confused and lost. If he can just get rid of all the bastards in the world then he can rest in peace. It's why coming second to Near hurts so damn much. Mello sees the worth in people. No matter how hard he tries, he sees the wicked rise up and the good trampled upon. Near sees it too, but he's managed to convince himself none of us matter. But to Mello, it does. He watches it all. He takes every murder, every rape, every family broken apart as a personal insult. He's going to get himself killed eventually, because he cares too damn much. It's probably why he eats so much chocolate. To drown out the bitter taste in his mouth he gets just from looking at the world.

And then there's me. What do my goggles and stripes and video games and cigarettes say? That I want to drown everything else out. That I make sure everything in my life is as loud a possible so I don't have to see everything that Mello and Near do. I've always been too damn perceptive. You want to know how I ended up here? My parents died in a car crash. A damn car crash. That's the big secret. That's not what I want to forget though. I want to forget the fact that I don't remember. That's right. I don't remember my own fucking parents' faces. I don't remember anything before that. I was even in the car when they died. That's the first memory I have. I'm five years old sitting in the ruin of a car with my two parents dead in the front seat. I only even noticed because my Gameboy died. What the hell does that say about me? What the hell does that say about them? That all I was some sort of accessory to them? Something to complete the model family? And what's even worse, I wasn't even sad. I just sat there waiting for somebody to find me. And why do I want to be L? Why does someone as fucked up as me want to be L?

That's the thing, I don't. I only keep my rank as third because if I didn't Mello would be pissed and because it would mean some other poor deluded kid has to take my place. I'm not going to wish that hell upon them. Let them have there own goals not based off some faraway dream that's never going to come true. Besides I'm not going to last long anyway. I'm going to die. Hopefully sooner than later. It's why I took up smoking. I'm fucking eleven and I'm smoking. It's not that bad, the burning sensation. I've already started to look forward to the poison in my lungs. Maybe I just like the idea of slowly killing myself on the inside. When I get older, I'll probably turn to drugs and alcohol and lose myself in some half-dream world. Who knows, maybe one day I'll have the guts to put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. Wammy's kids have done it before.

But then again. Mello and Near wouldn't like that. And I owe them for my sanity. I can't die before them. We have another unspoken code at Wammy's. You don't leave anyone else behind. And for me, that means Mello and Near. We're family. The real kind. Not the fake shit Near and I dealt with before. But the real deal. The kind Mello had. He's the only reason we're friends anyway. Mello just has that kind of personality. The type that makes you gravitate towards him. He pissed at the world and always ready for a fight. He's just fun to be around.

He took a liking to me because I was third and up for anything he suggested. He likes Near because Near challenges him. Don't act so surprised. Mello hates Near's lord-over-everything attitude, not Near himself. When you leave the three of us to our own devices we get along pretty well. It's the bonds of brotherhood or some other shit like that I guess. When you add Roger or anyone else to the equation though, things get messy pretty damn fast.

"You want us to what!" Mello screamed rather than asked Roger. I kept my eyes downward on the PSP in my hands as I reclined on the couch in the game room. Roger sighed wearily.

"I would like you to bathe Near. Some of the other children caused a bit of a mishap today and frankly, neither I nor any of the other staff have time to deal with him today," Roger explained from behind his spectacles that perched on a large nose.

"Why the hell should we!" Mello retorted, crossing his arms his blue eyes crackling dangerously.

"Because I said so. Just do it or no chocolate for a week. And watch the language," Roger said firmly before leaving to deal with some screaming from down the hall. Mello huffed angrily more for show than actual fury. In truth stuff like this barely even fazed Mello anymore, but if he let that show everyone would expect him to act civilly towards Near all the time. Mello was annoyed though. He always got ticked when Near refused to do anything by himself. I stowed my PSP in my pocket, reluctantly coming back to reality before getting up to follow Mello as he stalked to Near's room swearing under his breath every few seconds. I didn't say anything. That's not how we worked. Mello was the decision maker, I was the lackey. If Mello wanted to pretend to be pissed, so be it. Mello threw open the door to Near's room seeing the said albino playing on the floor. Mello sneered down at him.

"We're here….to give you a freaking bath," Mello mumbled still managing to sound menacing. Near glanced up completely at ease. I felt awkward without the familiar weight and humming of a game system in my hand. Everything sounded far too loud, despite Mello's use of an inside voice for once, like cotton had been pulled from my ears. I didn't want to see their relationship so clearly in front of me right now.

It was fairly simple. Near pisses Mello off because if Near stops running, Mello will stop chasing him. And Near will be left alone again. It was completely retarded. But what did you expect from two socially awkward geniuses?

Near stood up to go inside the bathroom and we turned to follow, until a door slammed in our faces.

"The hell?" Mello asked, still significantly quieter than he would have been if Roger was around. He looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. "What the hell Near?" he directed towards the door.

"Language, Mello," his soft voice said. "And I did not think you would want to see me undressed."

"Do what you want," Mello growled, "I really don't care." A few minutes later we heard the faint sound of fabric hitting the floor as well as sloshing water. Mello barged straight in; he wasn't one to respect privacy. The moment I stepped through the door, the air suddenly got heavier, the result of steam. I shut the door behind me and pushed my goggles up on my forehead. Immediately the world lost its orange tint. That was two of my safeguards gone. Couple that with the fact that I hadn't smoked a cigarette since yesterday and I was entirely too awake for my taste. I twitched nervously.

Mello and I approached the tub, seeing Near submerged up to his back in water, with just the peak of his shoulders sticking out of the water. I was struck again by how skinny he was. It was obvious the kid was thin, but you tended to forget how extreme it was with his oversized clothes hiding the worst of the damage.

His shoulder blades protruded from his back like wings from baby birds and I suppressed a shudder. Mello and I were skinny too, just not to that degree. Mello was a wiry skinny, made of angles and some sort of hidden energy. He had muscles somewhere on his body, I just had no idea where. I was the scrawny type of skinny, with my ribs always sticking out no matter how much I ate, proving my potential at being a future crack head.

Near sat placidly in the water waiting for us to begin. I immediately grabbed the shampoo, knowing if Mello washed Near's hair, he might end up being dunked into the water without warning. Mello settled for washing Near's shoulders and back, scowling when Near refused to let him wash anything else.

"Come on damn it!" Mello growled while tugging on Nears' arm, which was firmly placed underwater.

"I assure you, my hands are clean," Near answered monotonously. This if anything spurred Mello on more.

"Look, if I have to do this I'm going to be thorough! So come on! Aha!" Mello yelled triumphantly finally bringing Near's pale arm to the surface revealing five large cuts on his wrist.

At first I didn't understand what I was seeing. It didn't compute. The red gashes contrasting with Near's snow while skin couldn't be there. That wasn't what Near did. That's not how he worked.

"What the hell is this," Mello hissed. Near didn't respond. "Damn it! What the hell is this Near!" he yelled. Unflinchingly, Near answered.

"It should be quite apparent what the wounds on my body are from." Mello was furious. I knew if I didn't intervene, Mello might take matters into his own hands, by beating some sense into Near.

I pulled Near's other wrist towards me, he was unresistant now. I examined the five identical lines on his body. The angle was strange. Like someone else had forced Near's hand to hold the blade and drag it across his milky skin.

"Near," I said slowly. "Who did this to you?" he and Mello stiffened in surprise.

"What?" Mello asked focusing on me.

"You know?" Near whispered hesitantly. I nodded.

"The angle is all wrong. Now who did this to you?"

"Ace, Jack, Echo and Fin," he listed.

"Bastards," Mello spit out. "Get out, let me see." Near obediently got out of the bathtub and Mello and I flinched at the damage inflicted on his body. Bruises and scars littered his small frame. Mello wrapped a towel around him and looked over his shoulder at me. "Get him some clean clothes and first aide stuff."

I nodded and retreated back into Near's room finding a clean pair of his pajamas. Back in the bathroom, I opened a medicine cabinet and pulled out rubbing alcohol and bandages. Mello nodded once in thanks and started treating Near's injuries. Near just sat on the ground his head bowed. Once Mello finished, we just sat there in silence for a few moments.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Mello finally asked. Near stayed quiet.

"We're not going to abandon you," I added. Near trembled.

"You're not?" he asked softly. Mello thumped him in the back of the head.

"Of course not. Geez, how the hell are you number one in this place anyway," Mello said breaking the tension. "Come on," he said stiffly. We followed him out of the bathroom.

Mello grabbed two chairs, placing one by the window and one by the door. He pointed at the one by the window. "Sit," he ordered me. He pointed at the bed. "Sleep," he told Near. "I'll be right back." I nodded and sat in the chair, focusing on Near. He really did look vulnerable.

Mello came back a few minutes later with something hidden in his hand. He flicked the lights off and I could hear the sound of a gun being loaded.

"Mello, please don't kill anyone," Near said when the noises stopped. It was silent for a few moments.

"No promises," the irritable blonde growled. And I could swear in the faint light coming in through the window, Near was smiling.

Then the next day, we beat the shit out of Ace, Jack, Echo, and Fin. Hey, the bonds of brotherhood run deep.

~Author's Note~

Originally this came from the idea of Near never wanting to do anything for himself. It made me wonder if the SPK had to make him dinner and dress and bathe him. Which resulted in me going back to how Near was taken care of at Wammy's house. Then I added the Mello and Matt part in because I wanted to do a cute bonding thing with them. It ended up being from Matt's POV because he's the neutral one. He also has sooooo much potential. The manga and anime makes him come off just as a gamer, but nobody ever delves into why he feels like he needs to escape reality.