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Origins: Wammy's House. Ch11

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Liz sprinted into Roger’s office, causing him to experience a moment of acute déjà vu.  This time, the expression on her face was just as accusatory as it was panicked.  “It’s Mello!” she exclaimed.  “You should come right away!”

Roger did.  Their destination was the store room on the third floor, where Mello was having another of his fits.  It was the first he had had one since Liz’s arrival.  Roger didn’t fault her for her distress; the destruction Mello could wreak was not easy to absorb.  The room was a shambles by the time Roger arrived.  Several students were craning their necks to get a look into the room, and two teachers were trying to hold them back.  Nobody attempted to approach Mello, though.  No one was that foolish.  The job of ending his destructive rage usually fell to Charles Davies, the biggest man on the staff.  He wasn’t here yet, but Roger was confident that he would be soon.  The whole staff knew that fetching him was more important than fetching Roger in these situations.

When Roger pushed through the crowd of students, he found Matt sitting in front of the doorway.  Where the other students were whispering nervously to one another, Matt was watching his friend’s destructive progress avidly, his face wearing a blissful grin.  His eyes, for once not hidden behind sunglasses, were glazed over with an intense emotion that Roger could only describe as “hunger.”  It was…strange.  “Matt,” said Roger sharply.  “Why are you smiling?”

Matt’s eyes didn’t leave Mello for even an instant.  “Because of Mello,” he said happily.  “Mello is shining.  Like the sun.”

Roger stared at him in bafflement, then at Mello.  The boy was putting his fist through the closet door over and over again.  He tried to match Matt’s comment with what he was seeing, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it.  And not only was it nonsensical in this context, but it was…well…almost poetic.  Completely out of character for Matt.  “Shining like the sun?” he repeated incredulously.

Matt glanced at him in surprise and appeared to realize that he’d been caught showing an emotion.  He immediately swallowed his smile and put his sunglasses back on.

Roger’s confusion flipped to anger.  He could see blood dripping down Mello’s forearms clearly from here.  How could Matt enjoy watching his best friend get hurt?  That attitude was so uncaring and unsympathetic that it would give Near a run for his money.  “Matt, he’s hurting himself, can’t you se that?” he demanded.  

“What?” said Matt stupidly.  Then he inhaled sharply.  “You’re right!” he exclaimed, as if he had somehow managed not to notice until just now.  He pulled his sunglasses back off and dumped them into Roger’s hands.  “I’ll try my best to stop him,” he announced.  Then he strode fearlessly into the room.

“Wait, Matt!” exclaimed Roger.  He made a grab for him, but the child evaded him easily.  Roger stopped at the doorway, not daring to go any farther.

“Mel,” began Matt.  Mello whirled, his expression a mask of rage.  “Mello, you should stop—“  

They all saw Mello lifting the dresser drawer.  They all knew what was going to happen.  But Matt didn’t even lift a hand to defend himself.  Maybe he just didn’t believe that his friend would turn on him; Roger couldn’t even hazard a guess what was going through his head in that moment.  But Mello didn’t hesitate for so much as an instant.  

The drawer caught Matt full-force in the stomach.  He went down with nothing more than a muffled grunt.  

Then Mello was standing over him, one hand on his hip, a furious sneer twisting his features.  He grabbed Matt’s shirt and yanked, and the boy flopped  halfway up, boneless as a rag doll.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing getting in my way, Matty?” Mello shouted into his face.  He buried one hand in his red hair and drew the other one back.  Roger’s heart leapt into his throat and he shouted silently at Matt to defend himself—he had both arms free—but Matt didn’t move a muscle.  The two teachers were moving now, but not fast enough.  Mello’s free hand cracked across Matt’s face, palm open, with enough force to send a resounding smack echoing through the room.  

Then the teachers reached him.  There was a three-way scuffle that mercifully only lasted for a few seconds before Mr. Davies arrived.  He strode into the room and grabbed Mello, twisting his arm behind his back.  Mello let out a shriek and tried to jerk away, but only succeeded in nearly dislocating his shoulder.  He screamed and went limp, dropping Matt.  The redhead collapsed to the floor.  Mr. Davies hauled Mello’s still form bodily into the air and carried him away.

Roger rushed into the room and knelt next to Matt.  “Are you all right?”

Matt sat up, dazedly touching his reddened cheek.  “He hit me,” he said slowly, voice full of disbelief.  Then a grin slowly spread across his features.  “He hit me!”

Roger was rendered momentarily speechless.  Matt’s reaction was completely backwards from what it should be.  He wondered if the boy could have received a head injury in the fray.  Matt sat docilely while he checked for one, but he found nothing.  He appeared to be in good  physical health, and yet his face still wore that dreamy grin and he kept touching the cheek Mello had slapped.  It was inexplicable, not to mention distinctly disturbing.  He had to ask it, even though he almost feared the answer.  “Why do you keep smiling?”

“Mello’s so strong,” said Matt softly.  “You saw didn’t you?”  His eyes met Roger’s for a moment, and he smiled.  “I always knew he’d be this strong.  He is amazing.”  Then he laughed.  “I need to see him.  Did Mr. Davies take him to the infirmary?”

It took Roger a moment to find his voice.  “Yes...yes, I’m sure he did, to treat his wounds.”

Matt jumped up, and Roger could only stare after him stupidly as he left the room.  That had been more words and smiles from the boy than he could typically expect in a month.  Normally he was aloof, distant and withdrawn, an introvert who seemed completely uninterested in other people, save for his friendship with Mello.  He kept everyone else at a distance, his blank expression and sunglasses warning them off.  He sometimes smiled when he was with Mello, but that was it.  That was all anyone had ever seen of him, and so the staff had believed that that was simply all there was to him.  A dull, lazy boy who didn’t care much about the world.

But today Roger had seen a completely different side of him.  The way he had smiled, the words “shines like the sun”…those called everything into question.  They implied that there was a different side to Matt, a Matt that no one had seen.  Suddenly he wondered if Matt was just as complicated as any other child in the House, but simply hid it very well.

And if that were the case—

If that were the case, Roger realized, it meant that he didn’t know Matt at all.  Oh, he knew his real name, knew where he came from and how he’d ended up an orphan, knew that he liked video games and junk food, but…that was it.  As for who Matt really was, as a person, as for what he cared about and what moved him, he had no idea.  He had thought those things didn’t exist.  Now that he knew better, he saw Matt in a whole different light.  A sinister light.  What was the redhead hiding behind that blank stare and those sunglasses?  He could be anyone.  He was a walking question mark, a complete stranger who walked among them but wasn’t of them, a liar who had been deceiving them all for years.  He couldn’t be trusted.  Roger began reexamining all of Matt’s past actions warily, trying to gain clues to what dark secrets lurked under the surface.  What sort of psychological makeup did it take to make him laugh after being physically attacked by his best friend?  

One Mello had figured out, it seemed.  Matt trailed after him like a dog after its owner.  Hand in hand, they could be seen in the library or the study rooms or in the shade of the big trees outside, whispering to each other and trading secretive smiles.  It occurred to Roger that if he wanted information about Matt, the most direct way to get it might be to ask Mello.  Suddenly his worry about Mello and Matt taking their relationship beyond the point of friendship was overshadowed by a fresh fear of what was going through Matt’s head.  There was something peculiar happening between those two, and it was much more complicated than he had initially thought.  He had no idea what it was, though; and since it was going on almost entirely behind closed doors, he had no way to find out.

Actually, there is one way to find out, whispered an insidious little voice inside of him.  A chill ran down his spine.  No, I couldn’t.  It’s too wrong.  But…I’m their guardian, I’m the one who’s ultimately responsible for them… I need to know what’s going on…

Roger remained frozen in indecision for several long minutes before he abruptly  decided to take the plunge.  He hurried to his office, determined to get it over with before he could lose his nerve.  He unlocked the top drawer of his desk and removed the special key that rested inside.  Then he climbed to the fourth floor and slipped through the doorway of the disused utility closet at the end of the hall.  It looked innocuous enough, just a dusty old janitor’s closet full of junk.  He guessed that most people in the House, students and teachers alike, were barely aware of its existence.  It was the sort of room that peoples’ eyes slid right over without taking any conscious note.

But the second doorway at the back of the room, hidden away by a bin of cleaning implements, was anything but innocuous.  It sported a key lock, a combination padlock and a thumbprint scanner, which was keyed only to L, Watari and Roger.  Roger had never used it before, and experienced a moment of nervousness while he waited for the system to recognize him.  Then it released with an audible click, and he was able to slip inside.  

   He turned slowly and appraised his new surroundings.  The walls were almost entirely covered by banks of computer monitors and other high-tech equipment.  This was L’s observation room, the nerve center of Wammy’s House.  His network of bugs covered the entire grounds, bedrooms and bathrooms included.  L spent considerable amounts of time watching the security feeds during all of his visits, much to Roger’s dismay.  He had given Roger permission to use the network in his absence whenever he wanted, but Roger had refused on moral grounds.  He found the idea of spying on the students and staff without their knowledge repellent.  It was with a great sense of gravity and sorrow that he switched on the equipment today.  

He was worried at first that he wouldn’t be able to figure out how to operate the system, but that fear was short-lived.  It turned out to be completely intuitive.  He had the monitors up and running within minutes, and it proved easy to switch between the different feeds and see whichever part of the House he so chose.  The first observational target was obvious.  He flipped to the infirmary where Mello was and found that, as expected, Matt was there too.  He fumbled for a moment before he figured out how to turn the sound on.  Then he settled into the chair that was the room’s sole piece of furniture and began watching.






Mello lay quietly in the infirmary bed.  He felt strangely calm after the violence of tearing apart the spare room.  It had hit as soon as Mr. Davies hauled him bodily into the air.  Once he realized that further struggle was futile and relaxed, he had been gripped by an exhausted lassitude that was almost pleasant.  Sounds and touches both felt muted, like there was a giant cotton wad insulating him from the rest of the world.  He dully noted pain in his hands and feet, but it felt at one remove.  He had lain very still while Mrs. Drewett, the nurse, pulled the wood splinters out of his knuckles and the impressively large glass shard out of his foot.  He hadn’t even been annoyed when she delivered a lecture about running around in bare feet near glass.  He couldn’t be bothered by anything right now—not even, he realized in surprise, Near.  Maybe he was just too physically drained to have the energy for anger, he didn’t know, but it felt rather nice.  Peaceful.  Like all the resentment and frustration and rage had been drained out of him by that fit.  Maybe it actually had.

The moment Mrs. Drewett finished bandaging him and exited the room, Matt came rushing in.  Mello was thrilled to see him, but his joy flipped immediately to guilt when he saw the outline of his own handprint picked out in red across his cheek.  

“Mel!” his friend exclaimed.  He came to stand by his bedside and looked over him, radiating distress and concern.  “Are you okay?  How do you feel?”

“I should be asking you that.”  He reached up and touched Matt’s cheek lightly.  The redhead immediately stilled and watched him warily.  “Matty, I’m sorry,” he said softly.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” said Matt.  “It’s okay.”

“But…I threw a drawer at you.”  He winced at the memory.  He had put all of his strength behind that blow.  “Did I hurt you badly?  Can I see?”  He reached out and lifted Matt’s shirt.

“Hey!”  Matt immediately danced back from the bedside.

“I want to see,” said Mello plaintively.  He gave Matt his most persuasive look, and the redhead conceded.  He stepped forward again and raised his shirt, exposing his torso.

There was already a bruise forming where the dresser drawer had hit.  Mello cringed.  He brushed his fingers over it, and Matt immediately stiffened.  Mello jerked his hand back.  “Did I hurt you?”

Matt shook his head rapidly.  There was a slight blush on his cheeks, and Mello realized that it was just because he was touching him.  Matt was weird about that.  Some days he would bolt at the barest hint of physical contact, and other days he would happily let Mello naked hug him in the shower.  Mello had a hard time predicting which Matt he was going to get in any given moment, and he couldn’t quite tell which one this was right now.  

He decided to test it.  “I’ll hug you and be really nice to you to make up for it,” he offered contritely.  He started to sit up.

A hand on his chest stopped him.  “You’re supposed to stay lying down.”  Matt’s smile kept his words from being an admonition.  “I heard Mrs. Drewett say that.”

“Okay then.”  Mello took the hand that Matt had restrained him with.  “Lie down here with me and I’ll hug you that way.”  Matt hesitated, looking around the room warily.  Mello knew what he was thinking—he was worried about touching in a public place.  Mrs. Drewett could come back at any time.  “Just for a minute,” said Mello quickly.  “You can come under the covers.”  He lifted his blanket invitingly and gestured for Matt to get under them.  

“Well…”  Matt glanced around the room nervously one more time.  “Okay.”  He kicked off his shoes and climbed up.  Mello grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace before he could change his mind.  Matt made an inarticulate sound of surprise, but then relaxed and let himself be held.  Mello closed his eyes, pressed his face against his friend’s head so that red hairs tickled his nose.  He liked this, just himself and Matt, no video games or chocolate bars or textbooks serving as distractions.

“Mello…you’re so strong,” said Matt, against his chest.  His tone was almost reverent.  “How do you manage to be that strong?  You’re amazing.”

The compliment made Mello flush.  Matt was being extra nice today, and that made him feel even more guilty about having hurt him.  “I dunno…but that’s bad for you,” he said.  “Matty, why did you get in my way?”

Matt lifted his head up from Mello’s chest to make eye contact.  “I saw that your hands were bleeding,” he answered.  “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

That only made it worse.  Mello opened his mouth to tell him that he would never do it again, that he would only be nice, but he hesitated.  He remembered the absolute rage that had filled him at seeing his own best friend stand against him.  It had felt like a betrayal, and his fury had been all-consuming.  He knew in his heart that he would do the same thing again if Matt hindered him when he was angry.  “Matty, don’t get in my way when I’m mad,” he said.  “I don’t want to hit you again.”

“’Kay,” agreed Matt easily.  “Mel, what happened?  What were you so mad about?”

Mello bit his lip.  “It was…Near…I was behind him by three points on the math exam.  I was so angry at him…and at myself.”  He shook his head.  A touch of the frustration that had driven him to tear the bedroom apart was starting to come back.  Try as he might, he could never open a solid lead above Near in test scores.  “What if I can never beat him?” he asked plaintively.  “What if we’re tied forever?  What if L doesn’t choose me?  What—“  He broke off in surprise when Matt’s hand closed over his mouth.  He tried to say “What the hell?” but it came out muffled.  

“Mello,” said Matt insistently.  “Don’t talk like that.  Things aren’t going to be that way.”  He squeezed Mello’s upper arm and caught his gaze.  “You’ll beat him, Mel.  You’re the only real Successor.”

For a moment, Mello was completely captivated by his eyes.  They were so pretty, emerald green and bright and seemingly bottomless, like he could fall in and keep on tumbling into the depths of Matt forever.  Then he remembered that his mouth was still being forcibly covered.  He glared and licked Matt’s hand.

“Gross!”  Matt jerked his hand back and wiped it on Mello’s shirt, giving him a dirty look.  

Mello stuck his tongue out unrepentantly.  Then he sobered.  “How can you be so confident, Matt?  Near is—Near is really smart, and he keeps beating me on exams, and I just don’t know…”  He trailed off uncertainly and bit his lip.

Matt searched his face deeply, his brows creasing.  “Why are you doubting yourself?  Mello, you have complete faith in a God that doesn’t even exi—“  He caught himself and quickly amended, “—that you can’t even see or touch.  But you’re right here, and you’re so…”  He hesitated, lifting one hand to hover over Mello’s face, then over his shoulder, then his chest before returning to his side.  “You’re so here.  Why don’t you have the same faith in yourself?  I have faith in you,” he said softly.  

Mello stilled.  Those words, coming from Matt, were not insignificant.  “You do?”

Matt’s eyes lost focus for a moment as he looked within himself and genuinely considered.  Then he nodded.  “Yeah.  I do.”

Mello flushed.  Matt, who thought faith was for idiots, had some after all.  For him.  Those words touched him deeply, making the pit of his stomach flutter with butterflies, making him shiver all over.  Not even God had managed to earn Matt’s faith, but somehow he had.  He could feel his doubts and fears start to melt away, vanishing in the face of Matt’s confidence in him.  He felt peaceful and relaxed, as if the stoic calm that Matt possessed had somehow come right out of his eyes to blanket him.  They really were beautiful eyes, and Mello wondered why it had taken him this long to realize it.  

“Matt!”  Mrs. Drewett’s tone was sharp and startled.  Mello hadn’t even noticed her entering the room, but now there she was at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over her chest.  “Don’t disturb Mello!  He should be resting!”

Matt stiffened, then shrank against him as if he could disappear that way.  “I don’t think I’m disturbing him,” he mumbled.  “Am I?”

“No!” affirmed Mello.  

“Well, you still have a class you should be attending,” she said sternly.  Matt groaned softly at that reminder.  “I won’t write you an excuse for missing it, so you ought not be truant.”

Matt sighed.  He lifted his head and his eyes locked apologetically on Mello’s.  “’kay.”  

Mrs. Drewett, despite her fierceness, exited the room the moment the word left his lips.  Mello relinquished his grip on Matt reluctantly, and the redhead sat up.  He looked over Mello’s body carefully, brows creased in worry.  “Are you feeling all right, Mello?  Really?”  He laced his fingers through Mello’s.  “I’ll skip class and stay, if you want.”

Mello’s stomach tingled at that offer, that Matt was willing to defy House rules for his sake.  He was tempted to take him up on it, but then decided that he didn’t want his friend getting into trouble on his behalf.  “It’s okay.  I’m okay.  You should go to class.”

Matt nodded.  “Okay.”  He started to stand, but Mello tightened his grip on his fingers.

“Wait, Matty.”

Matt turned to him.  “What is it?”

It wasn’t anything, he just didn’t want to relinquish his grip on Matt’s hand yet.  “Matt, thank you.”

Matt smiled and squeezed his hand reassuringly.  “You’re welcome.”  

It seemed so inadequate, a simple thanks, for how much better Matt had made him feel.  He tried to think of something more articulate to say, some way of expressing himself better.  Abruptly, he sat up and kissed Matt on the cheek.

Then he reeled back, caught by surprise at his own action.  Just like hitting Jury and tearing apart the storeroom, that kiss had bypassed his conscious mind entirely in transforming from thought to deed.  Matt’s fingers flew to his cheek, his eyes wide with surprise, gawking directly at him.  Mello was suddenly too embarrassed to make eye contact, and he turned to the side and giggled nervously.  He could feel himself blushing.  When he managed to glance back at Matt, the redhead quickly swiveled his gaze in the other direction.  His face was as crimson as his hair.  His hand hadn’t moved away from his cheek, still resting on the kiss Mello had given him, but his lips were twitching into a small smile.  Mello looked away before he could look back and hugged himself, also smiling.  “I’ll see you after class, Matty.”

“Y…yeah, okay.”  Matt jumped out of bed and hurried across the room and out the door.  

Mello watched him go mutely.  His head was spinning a little bit, maybe that was because he had sat up when Mrs. Drewett had given express orders to stay horizontal.  He slowly lay back down, reviewing the feel of Matt’s cheek against his lips in his mind.
Chapter 11/30

One line in this chapter appears VERBATIM in 40 Seconds. *chagrined* I didn't get it from there. I wrote the first draft of this scene before that project even existed. Likewise there's no possible way that that artist could have gotten it from me. It's just a pure coincidence. I suppose it's fairly obvious imagery to use...but anyway, if something sounds familiar, that's why.

First Chapter: [link]

Next Chapter: [link]

Death Note and all of its characters are (c) Ohba, Obata.
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dragongirl1999's avatar
lol, matt likes abuse, kink-yyyyy! loljkjk