His struggling continued, even as he felt the needle penetrate his skin; if anything, he tried to fight against them even harder, yelling non-words as he did. This was bullshit, and he wasn't crazy; he didn't belong there, and...

It sank in slowly, and his senses gradually dulled. It just seemed pointless to keep fighting; they'd won this round, and, as much as he hated to admit it, he'd failed. It was a sobering thought, and Matt had to wonder if that was how Mello felt most of the time, cooped up in Landel's as long as he had been. Made him feel a bit more sympathetic to the prat, that was for sure.

Sucked that they were taking the crowbar, but what could he do? Nothing, that's what. As they helped him up, he just nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Eat."