Mello had meant to go down when he dove in, accepting it as the price for taking Matt with him, but damn him, going straight for where it would hurt most. His so-called friend's elbow came down right on the patch of skin on Mello's back still tender from the burns, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making any sound. Pain radiated outward from the blow, and he tasted blood, another unwelcome reminder of the night before, of trying to master his own reactions. And failing.

Reeling from that, he was unprepared for Matt to kick out at him, and fought to keep his balance, grabbing a handful of Matt's shirt to do so.

"How dare you, you dead bastard." He swung his right fist for Matt's face. "You have no fucking idea--" Another punch thrown, this time with his left hand. "--what I've been through here." He shoved at his friend's chest, half-blindly in his fury, just wanting to hurt him, by now, to make him just shut up.