Origins: Wammy's House. Ch19

Three stories below, standing amongst the crowd of onlookers, Matt burst out laughing.  Roger couldn't tear his eyes away from Mello's deadly plunge to look at him, but the joyous peal, so incongruous with the scene before them, chilled him to the bone.

Mello's fall seemed to last for ages.  The image of blonde tresses fluttering in the wind, catching the sunlight like prisms, imprinted itself onto his mind's eye forever.  

Then it was over.  Mello reached the ground.  His body disappeared through the top of a bush and for a heart-stopping moment was completely hidden.  Then he came somersaulting out the side and rolled halfway down the small incline in front of the House.  His limbs uncurled and flopped outwards, and he came to a halt flat on his back in the grass.  

The world should have been a frozen, silent tableau.  No one should have dared so much as breathe for fear of what the next few seconds would bring.  But Matt shattered that reality completely by bolting forward, still laughing.  His movements and sounds screeched across Roger's raw nerves like metal on metal.  He experienced a stab of extreme revulsion towards the redhead.

The crowd of onlookers began to unfreeze, galvanized by Matt's actions.  Students and staff surged forward as one.  Part of Roger's mind flickered to practical matters, and a moment of panic touched him.  The last thing Mello needed was a mob of gawkers blocking help from reaching him.

Then something amazing happened.  Impossible and amazing.  Mello unfolded from the ground and stood up.

The approaching horde wavered uncertainly, then lost cohesion and transformed back into a collection of individuals who were milling nervously.  Roger was frozen in his tracks.  

The only one immune to the shock of what they had just witnessed was Matt, who dashed straight into the clear space surrounding Mello.  He halted about two meters away, his eyes fixed raptly on his friend.  

Mello's lips curved into a dangerous smirk and he drew himself up to his full height.  He was completely relaxed, save for the hand that clasped his rosary, but it was with the ease of a predator who might decide to pounce and snap a hapless victim's neck at any moment.  He dripped power.  His gaze raked the crowd, and where it landed, students and staff alike averted their eyes and fell back.  There were gasps and whispers; sentiments of shock, awe, and fear.  Even Roger shivered when Mello's eyes locked on his and he saw what they held.  There was something burning there, and it was not quite sanity.  

Then Mello's eyes alighted on Matt's, and his expression turned more sly.  Something indefinable passed between them, something that Roger couldn't even begin to understand.

Mello strode forward, head held high.  There was not even a trace of a limp in his gait.  The onlookers parted quickly, scrambling to stay out of his way.  Matt fell into step behind him, and the two of them marched wordlessly across the grounds.  The watchers turned as one and followed their progress to the front door.

Only when they had vanished inside of the building was the spell broken.  Roger blinked eyes that had gone dry and glanced around at the others who had just witnessed that scene alongside him, at a complete loss as to how he should react.  He saw many of them doing the same, shaking their heads in mute bewilderment and looking to each other for cues.

A commotion from above their heads brought Roger back to reality.  His eyes widened in fear.  Near was still there!  His gaze snapped upwards, trying futilely to catch a glimpse of what was occurring on the roof.  He could hear shouts.  

With a curse that he would later feel guilty for uttering in front of the students, Roger turned and ran to the House proper as fast as his legs would carry him.







Matt followed Mello through the doorway to Wammy's House.  His eyes were glued to his best friend, drinking in the beauty of his every movement and mannerism.  He was grinning so widely that it hurt his face, but he was powerless to stop.  It took all of his self-discipline not to giggle uncontrollably.  Mello had finally shown the world what he could do!  Matt had seen it many times, of course, but Mello had never made such a public spectacle of it before.  The fear and incomprehension on the faces of the other students when he stood atop the roof was just too funny.  They couldn't understand that he wasn't in any real danger.  

But they understood now.  They had caught a glimpse of what Matt saw all the time:  Mello's power, Mello's beauty, Mello's strength.  Not even gravity could defeat him; the very laws of the universe bent to Mello's will.  No one else in the House could make that claim, maybe no one else in the world.  Mello was singular.

Matt's stomach was fluttering as he trailed behind Mello, his breathing uneven.  His whole body was trembling with…something.  He felt lit up, alive from head to toe.  He wanted to touch Mello, to feel just a tiny bit of that power crackle through his fingertips like electricity, but now he could see just how far above him Mello truly was.  He wasn't worthy to touch something of such exquisite perfection.  He was incredibly lucky that he had been allowed to get away with it up until now.

Mello led him purposefully through the hallways of the House.  Matt had no idea where they were going, but that was all right.  He didn't question.  He just followed.

It took several more minutes before it became apparent that their destination was Roger's office.  Matt understood right away.  Roger had been getting on Mello's case over his conduct quite a bit lately; Mello clearly intended to put an end to that once and for all.  

When they reached it, Mello threw the door open and strode inside like he had every right to be there.  It was enough to start Matt giggling again.  No one else would ever dare do this.

Mello crossed the room and hopped up onto Roger's desk.  Matt halted in front of him and stared hungrily up into Mello's commanding gaze.  "M-Mello," he finally managed to breathe.  "That was amazing!"  His hands came up and approached the blonde almost of their own accord, but he stopped them before they touched.  "Can I…?"

"No."  Mello's flashing eyes sent the full force of his personality thundering over Matt, rendering that single word an absolute command.  Matt jerked his hands back to his sides immediately; it was impossible to do otherwise.  

Mello held his gaze.  Matt's breath caught, then stopped entirely.  He could feel Mello's power like a physical thing, washing over him and through him, drowning out his senses and pushing all else aside until it filled him completely.  He was overwhelmed, torn to pieces, obliterated, burned to nothing in Mello's cleansing flame; and then reborn, purified.  He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't make his weak knees support his weight.  He was gong to lose his balance.

Then Mello's hand moved like lightning to snatch a fistful of his hair and drag him forward roughly.  Matt was whimpering with need even before Mello's lips met his.  The kiss was forceful, Mello's mouth smashing against his nearly hard enough to bruise.  Matt lost his balance and toppled over.  His stomach landed painfully on the edge of the desk, but he had been told not to touch, so he kept his arms at his sides.  Only Mello's hand in his hair kept him from sliding to the floor.  

It ended too soon.  Matt was left panting and trembling against Mello's body.  The blonde slipped his hand down to the small of his back, his eyes holding Matt's like glue.  "You can touch now," he offered magnanimously.  Gratefully, Matt wrapped his arms around Mello's waist and clung to his friend.

It took some time before he was able to recover himself enough to speak.  "Mello…"  He peered upwards raptly.  "Are you an angel?"

Mello cocked his head at him in surprise.  "What are you talking about, Matty?  Since when do you believe in angels?"

Matt dared to press slightly closer to him.  "Since I realized you must be one," he said softly.  

Mello lifted one hand to caress his cheek, and Matt's eyes fluttered halfway shut in pleasure.  His lips curved into a gentle smile.  "Matty," he said.  "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."  He kissed Matt's forehead, sending another cascade of shivers through him.  "But I'm just Mello," he said firmly.  "This is what I am.  This."

The sound of approaching footsteps reminded Matt that the outside world still existed.  It had to be Roger-no one else would enter this office uninvited.  Matt had no sense of how much time had passed, but this meant that it must have been enough for the old man to finish dealing with the aftermath of what had happened.  For the first time, it occurred to Matt to wonder what had become of Near.  Details of the events on the roof hadn't been visible from the ground, but Matt could draw some conclusions.  Near couldn't have fared well in a direct confrontation with Mello.  The thought of the two of them fighting…a chill raced down his spine.  Could Near actually be dead…?

The footsteps were just outside the door now.  Matt started to stand, but quickly realized that he was still so shaky he would fall as soon as Mello let go of him.  But Mello didn't; he took hold of Matt's shoulders and spun him so that he faced the doorway, but then pulled him back to lean against the desk between his legs.  A hand in his hair informed Matt that that was where he should remain, so he stilled.

The door clicked open to reveal Roger.  He stopped in the entrance, one hand still resting on the doorknob, and locked eyes with Mello.  There was a long, charged silence.

Roger looked away first.  His eyes flicked to Matt, then to his desk, then back to Mello.  "Are you injured?" he asked without preamble.  

"No," replied Mello smugly.  Matt didn't need to see his face to picture with perfect clarity the smirk stretching across his features right now.

"You need to come to the infirmary for an exam.  I'll continue talking to you there."

"No," said Mello again.

Roger's eyebrows drew together in consternation.  "Yes," he said.  "You just fell three stories, Mello.  You need to see Mrs. Drewett."

"No."

"Mello-"

"I said no!"

Roger opened his mouth, then paused.  Matt grinned as he watched the man debate internally, arrive at the conclusion that this was a losing battle and change directions.  "Get down from my desk."

"No!"  Mello laughed gaily; he was enjoying this.

"Yes.  Sit on a chair, like everyone else."

"Nope.  I'm not going to, and you can't make me."

Roger hesitated.  Matt knew what was going through the old man's mind.  He didn't want to let Mello get away with flouting his authority this blatantly, but he also saw that continuing to argue would only give Mello more chances to rebel.  It was also quite evident that the only way to make Mello comply would be to cross the room and physically remove him from the desk.

Roger changed tacks again.  "Do you know what's become of Near?" he inquired icily.  

"He's crying like a baby on the roof?" suggested Mello flippantly.

"He's on his way to this hospital," corrected Roger coldly.  Mello froze, and the way his hand tightened in Matt's hair told him that he hadn't expected that.  "He was having a seizure by the time the staff reached the roof.  He also has a dislocated shoulder, multiple cuts that are going to need stitches and several potential broken bones.  Our infirmary here isn't equipped to handle such serious injuries."

Mello laughed maliciously.  He had either recovered from his surprise, or was doing a very good job of pretending that he had.  "I guess that's what happens when you lose."

Roger's eyes sparked with anger and he strode several steps into the room.  "That didn't just "happen," Mello.  You did that to him!  You!"  He held up a clump of something white and red, and it took Matt a moment to realize that it was a tuft of Near's hair, tangled and bloody.  "Do you see that?"

Once again, that tightening of fingers in his hair.  "I didn't do that," said Mello blankly.

"No," agreed Roger.  "This is the hair that Near pulled out of his own head when his seizure began."

Matt couldn't tear his eyes away from the grotesque sight.  There was actually still some skin sticking to it, giving it shape.  He shuddered.

Mello was unfazed.  "Serves him right."

"There are going to be consequences for this, Mello!"  Roger's eyes churned with fury.  "Real consequences.  L will hear of this."

"Good," said Mello smugly.  "Then he'll know that I won and Near can't stand against me."

Roger stared, disbelief written all over his face.  "What are you…"  He shook his head.  "You can't seriously expect to commit that kind of violence against one of your peers and get away with it.  Things are going to change around here."

"Sure they are," agreed Mello easily.  "Just not the way you think."  He laughed.  "For instance, you're not going to punish me ever again."

"Mello, that's ludicrous."

"No, that's the truth.  I'm just telling you how it's going to be, Roger."

Matt froze.  There was just enough emphasis placed on the name to make it clear that Mello had used it deliberately.  Matt watched the shock bloom across Roger's face, then be replaced by stony neutrality.  The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.  The tension could have been cut with a knife.  

"That's Mr. Ruvie to you," Roger corrected softly.

"Not unless you call me Mr. Mello!"  Mello's loud outburst made a jangling contrast to Roger's tight control.  "I'm smarter than you and I'm L's Successor, plus I'm practically fourteen now!"

"…Mr. Mello?" repeated Roger, his face registering blank astonishment.

"Yes, you know?"  Mello spoke with exaggerated slowness, like he was speaking to an idiot.  "Mello-sama.  Herr Mello.  Monsieur Mello.  Otherwise, I'm calling you Roger."

Roger drew himself up.  "I am the principal of this institution," he began.  "So long as you attend this school, you will addr-"

Matt burst out laughing, interrupting Roger mid-admonition.  He felt a little bit bad, especially when Roger broke off and stared at him in consternation, but he couldn't help it.  The idea that being in charge of Wammy's House would give Roger the power to control Mello was just too funny.  Roger didn't do anything more impressive than lecturing a student every once in awhile-he would have to be defying gravity before he could hope to tangle with Mello.  

The hand in Matt's hair petted his head appreciatively.  "See, Matt understands," said Mello.  "Tell him, Matt."

Obediently, Matt spoke.  "You can't beat Mello," he said simply.

"Roger!" exclaimed Mello, his tone sing-song.  "Roger, Roger Roger!"  He laughed.  

Roger's shoulders slumped wearily in defeat.  He heaved a sigh and briefly closed his eyes, and Matt was suddenly struck by how old he looked.  Old and tired.  Matt wondered idly what it felt like to be that age and get bossed around by a thirteen-year-old.

"Mello," he began.  "Would you please get down from that desk and go visit Mrs. Drewett in the nurse's office?  Think about it from my perspective.  You just sent a peer to the hospital and jumped off a third story roof.  I can't let you go back to your school day as if nothing has happened.  You need to at least visit the nurse and the counselor."

"Hmm…"

"Please be reasonable."  Roger's tone was far more pleading than he probably intended it to be.

"Okay."  Mello pushed Matt away from the desk and jumped down himself.  "Since you asked so nicely, I'll go."

"Thank you."  Now that Mello was no longer sitting on his desk, he crossed the room to take his seat behind it.  "Matt, I would like to speak with you."

"No!" exclaimed Mello, grabbing Matt's wrist.  "He's coming with me."

"I'm going with him," Matt told Roger.  He tried to look apologetic, but it probably didn't work very well since he couldn't stop grinning.  Then Mello tugged on his arm, and he was more than happy to follow his best friend out of the room.