Matt watched his "friend" closely - or, as closely as he could, considering he couldn't use one eye, and his vision in the other was going a bit blurry; it would be a cold day in hell when he admitted why it was going blurry. He could feel the heat in both cheeks, and he probably looked embarrassed as all hell, but as he thought over the fight, something rather intriguing popped out at him, grabbing his attention and running with it.

Catching the water bottle with ease, Matt sighed, a sign that he was pleased with how cool it was, and he accepted it as whatever makeshift apology Mello was trying to make this time. I have to, I suppose, he thought, knowing all too well that he was about to hit a sore area - and maybe even get smacked again.

"Y'gotta tell me now," he said in a low, quiet voice, pressing the cool bottle to his right eye. "I've noticed things - little things, here an' there, but they're-" He sighed again, trying to say this in a way that wouldn't make Mello practically tackle him again. "You're different, mate. And- And what you said-" while you were boxing my ears, as though we were right back at Wammy's. "What'd they do t'you?"

Knowing Mello, he probably wouldn't answer, but Matt needed to try. Logically, it was his place to know; he had that gut feeling that Mello hadn't managed to make any new friends while locked in the madhouse.