Author's Note: So, while I was trying to think up more stuff to write on my Game Over story, I came up with this little beauty. It probably won't be as long as Game Over will be, but I'm happy with how it's going along. Hell, I just sat and wrote about 18 pages on this story without getting bored or stuck at all. I've never tried a "story evolves from dates" type thing, so bear with me if it sucks. Comments are awesome, even the bad kind. xD And by the way, "Ad Interim" supposedly means "In the Meantime." Just some extra information for you. Now, Onward!
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. I wish I did, but I don't. If I owned Death Note, I would have Matt and Mello become the stars of the show. And I'd have them WIN, damn it.
Warning: Should just be bad language and abuse in this story, but who knows? I have a way of maiming perfectly good work.
December 28th, 1996
"I'm only taking you in because I owed your father a favor. Don't get used to living here. And don't expect any special treatment. If you disobey me, I will still beat you until you bleed."
The belt caught Mihael across the shoulders, making him scream until his lungs hurt. His hands gripped fistfuls of blanket as he struggled to stay in position throughout his beating.
"Nate, for God's sake. Don't make the boy pass out. Come on, hasn't he been punished enough?" The woman's fingers lighted on the doorframe, staring at the floor.
"Quiet, Woman," the broad-shouldered man barked. "This boy stole from my truck. I'll decide when he's had enough."
"Ahh, nngh, owww..." Mihael whined through gritted teeth as the belt danced across his entire backside, even dipping down to lick his legs with stripes of fire. "M-m-mai..."
"Yes, boy, I know. Mail will get what's coming to him, too. Best you focus on your own situation. Leave my son to me." The man cracked the belt hard across Mihael's lower back, ending the dreadful beating. He stormed out of the tiny room, leaving the boy to cry his heart out.
Once the man left, the woman crossed the space between herself and the sobbing child, scooping him into a half-embrace. She pulled her fingers through his hair, shushing him gently. His sobs turned to hiccups in her gentle arms. Across the hall, another pleading voice screamed out as the belt descended on the second victim of Nate's wrath.
"Shhh, Mihael, calm down honey. I know it hurts, hon. Nate...he means well. He wants to raise you boys properly. You can't steal, and you can't lie. Please think of your actions next time...please..." She cradled the blonde-haired angel to her chest as the beating across the hall became more intense.
"Momma, can I come when you get Mail?" Mihael's deep blue eyes pleaded with her intently. He burrowed his face into her clean-smelling shirt as a particularly nasty scream drifted into his ears.
"No, honey. Best leave Mail to me. You should lie down and sleep until your stripes stop hurting so badly. I...I can't bring anything to you once Nate is finished. I'm sorry, honey. Just try to sleep, all right? Mihael..." The woman blinked hard to push back the tears she wanted to spill so desperately.
"Yes, Momma..." young Mihael pulled himself away from her warm embrace and dropped himself delicately on the bed. "Tell Mail I'm sorry?"
"Of course. Don't leave your room until after dark. I'll leave a sandwich behind the cereal box for you; try to get it without waking your father. Without waking Nate, I mean." She forced a smile as she stood to face her other crying child. "I love you, Mihael."
"I love you, too," he whispered as his heavy eyes closed for sleep.
Just as Mihael drifted off into dream world, heavy boots on the stairwell awoke him. He lifted his head, wincing at the shots of pain that teased his nerves, and listened carefully.
"Momma, Momma!" He heard faintly from across the hall, "Momma! It hurrrtss..."
"I know," he heard the woman coo, "Mihael says that he's sorry. I'll leave you a sandwich behind the cereal box..."
With fluttering eyelids, Mihael tuned out the rest of the conversation. It wasn't right to eavesdrop. He had only wanted to make sure that Mail knew how sorry he was...
February 18th, 1997
"Nate, don't! God, please don't!"
BANG. Silence. Heavy footsteps on the stairs.
"Mihael! He's coming! What are we gonna do?" Mail trembled, squeezing a fistful of Mihael's shirt.
"I don't know, Mail. I'm scared. He's going to shoot us if we don't do something." The blonde shoved the smaller boy into the closet, pulling the door shut behind them.
"I want my Momma!" Mail cried. He pulled at Mihael's shirt until it ripped, removing an entire sleeve from the blonde's white t-shirt.
"I know, I know. I want her, too. But we can't...I mean, you heard it. You heard it, didn't you? We're on our own now, and we're running out of time." He frowned in concentration as the footsteps grew nearer and nearer to the boys' hiding place.
"Why, where are my two beautiful boys?" A drunken voice growled menacingly. "Come out and play with your old Pop. Mail, you want to play Cowboys and Indians, right? Bang, bang, you're dead!" The voice chuckled in the empty moonlit room. "Make it easy on me, son. Come on out of the closet."
"What are we going to do?" Mail whispered frantically.
"Stay still. Crouch down as low as you can get." Mihael pushed the younger boy to a sitting position before taking a deep breath. Slowly, he reached for the closet's handle. Counting to three, he ripped the door open and lunged at the drunken man in front of him.
"You li'l bastard!" The man growled, "I'll kill you! I'll kill you dead! I'll..." The man's speech was cut off by a low kick to the groin. He doubled over in pain, huffing and puffing and moaning for air. Mihael dove for the fallen gun, raising it and pulling the trigger before he could think of an alternate plan.
BANG. Silence.
Mihael's blood roared in his ears as Nate Jeevas crumpled in a sick pile of flesh and bones and blood. His eyes remained open, haunting. All Mihael could think about was his own heavy breathing.
Slowly, he lowered the gun. He backed up against the wall, sliding down to the floor with a whimper. His eyes bulged in fear; his stomach felt sick.
"Mihael! Mihael!" Mail's voice called from far away. Mihael could barely keep from blacking out. "Mihael! What do we do now?"
"We...we...we..." Mihael blinked a few times, "Mail, I shot him..."
"You had to," Mail whimpered, crossing the space between the two boys. He knelt at Mihael's side, tugging at the blonde's arm. "He's have killed us both. Let's get help. Please, Mihael. Let's call the cops."
"NO!" Mihael yelled, jumping to his feet. "You can't! They'll arrest me. I shot your father, Mail. I shot him. I didn't mean to...I just..." The boy's eyes squeezed shut, trying to rid the frightening image from his head. "I just...shot him..."
Mail slipped away soundlessly, leaving the panicked boy to cry in peace. Somewhere in the distance, sirens blared and lights flashed as an able squad responded to a young boy's call about his parents being shot.
March 1st, 1997
"You know that kid. He shot someone, you know. Better stay away."
"Don't listen to them, Mihael," The young redhead smiled sympathetically at the wide-eyed blonde. "They're just being kids. You're not dangerous. You're a hero. You saved us."
Mihael opened his mouth to answer, when a large woman stepped in front of the duo, nearly knocking them over.
"BOYS!" She screeched, pointing at Mail and Mihael, "You need to get to my office RIGHT NOW."
The two boys dropped their eyes and slinked down the hall into the cold Matron's office. Mail gently squeezed Mihael's hand.
"Wonder what we did this time..." he sighed, "We've been here how long? And we've probably been in trouble more than every other kid here. Combined. And tripled."
"It's because we're bad," Mihael muttered quietly. "We're marked with black ink. We're bad."
"That's not it..." Mail tried to argue, but was cut off mid-sentence by the Matron's chilling voice screeching instructions.
"BOYS!" She huffed, "You know what you've done this time! Both of you, get across that bench and start praying. Lord help you this time!"
"Like we actually did anything..." Mail snorted, earning a hard kick from the pissed-off Matron.
"Silence!" She barked, pushing the two young boys until they were helplessly stretched across the bench, awaiting the latest beating. The Matron stomped over to her cabinet and withdrew a long, wide strap from within.
"We're bad," Mihael whispered. "We're bad and we'll always find ourselves in trouble."
"Maybe," Mail whispered back, "but at least we'll be in trouble together."
CRACK.
August 5th, 1999"And you've brought them from where?" A gray-haired man asked the young social worker.
"Golden River Orphanage," the young woman answered, ticking a box on Mihael's file. "The blonde one is named Mihael. He was adopted in 1995 by Nathan and Emily Jeevas. Birth date is December 13, 1989, blood type A. Original parents unknown. The red-haired boy is Mail Jeevas; birthday is February 1, 1990. Blood type O. Parents were Nathan and Emily Jeevas, now deceased. No known siblings or living relatives. Both boys were taken to the Golden River shortly after the murder of Nathan and Emily Jeevas. The police files from that case are included in the overview."
"And what of the Golden River?" He asked, pursing his lips as he glanced over the photos of the crime scene.
"It was...closed. These boys and forty-seven other children suffered abuse under the Matron of the orphanage, Diana Parquer. She is currently awaiting trial. Sir, these boys...they've seen a lot. A medical examination showed that both boys have multiple scars from shoulders to ankles. They've been beaten quite a bit. Are you sure that this is a safe haven for them?"
"Miss, Wammy's is the safest haven available for gifted boys such as these." He smiled warmly, gazing out the window to the small boys sleeping soundly in the green Chevy in the driveway.
"Yes Sir," the woman nodded. "I'll bring their things inside. We'll wake them as soon as their belongings are in place. They...they don't have much, sir."
"I understand. Here, I'll show you to their room. "
August 6th, 1999"Hey, Mail..."
"It's Matt now, Mello."
"Right, Matt. Sorry. I don't like these new names."
"I know, me either. But Roger said we have to use them or else."
"I know. Anyways, Matt, what do you think about this place? I have a really bad feeling."
"How come? I like it here. They're letting us be roommates and they haven't punished us at all, even though we both complained about our new names! I think it's great!"
"But...I have a feeling that it won't last. That they're just being nice because we're new. I have this really bad feeling that someday, we'll suffer here like we have everywhere else."
"I don't think so. This isn't like back at the River. It's not like home was."
"I hope you're right, Mail. Matt. Sorry. I hope you're right, Matt."
"I am, Mello. Just trust me, all right?"
"I always have."
June 23rd, 2001
"Matt! Mello!" Roger called down the hall, obviously angry. "What in God's name are you two doing in here?"
The two boys gulped, eyes wide and hands trembling. Mello quickly dropped the file he had been holding.
"We're not doing anything, Roger," Mello said, feigning innocence. He was sure that it was time, that they were going to suffer again. Breaking and entering? Why had he tried something so risky?
"Boys, I am very upset that you would do something so foolish. However, I would like to compliment you on your newfound skills. Matt, you hacked the security system around the file cabinet, did you not?"
"Yes...Yes Roger." Matt cast a wary glance to Mello.
"And Mello, you organized the break-in for a convenient time? And you chose the target?"
"I did, Roger." Mello stated defiantly.
"Well done, boys. Now, get out. The security system will be rewritten and all files will be rearranged. Don't attempt another break-in."
The boys shuffled out of the room with their tails between their legs. They raced down the empty hallway, seeking refuge in their quiet room. The moonlight streamed across the floor, casting shadows on everything. The boys locked the door and plopped down on the window seat, completely exhausted.
"So, what did you find out?" Matt grinned.
"I was right about the new kid," Mello frowned. "I knew I didn't like him. That boy, Near. His real name..."
"You found out his real name?" Matt's face lit up. "All right, Mello!"
"His name is Nate." A shock spread across Matt's features. Mello spit the words out of his mouth like acid. "Nate River."
"Sonofa..." Matt closed his eyes, leaning his head against the cool glass. "Did you read anything else?"
"He's a genius. He's an albino. His parents aren't really dead." Mello spoke in monotone, closing his eyes and leaning against the window as well. "He's antisocial. Of course, we knew that already."
The boys fell silent, contemplating their latest enemy. Nate River. That name brought back hundreds of unwelcome memories. Crickets chirped in the field beside Wammy's.
"...Matt?"
"...Yeah?"
"Do you...remember...your father?"
"Of course I do. He made sure I could never forget him. What about you?"
"I...don't remember my real father. I only remember yours. I remember..."
"How much it hurt? When he would beat us?"
"Yeah. And how he'd always come to my room first. So that I had to hear you when you screamed..."
"...Yeah. I had to listen to you scream while I waited for mine. I...was always so afraid."
"...Yeah. Me too. He...he made sure that we would never misbehave again. But we always seemed to prove him wrong."
"I guess so. But then, there were times..."
"What do you mean?"
"He was...really nice to me. Just sometimes. He would...pick me up and spin me around. And laugh. He'd sneak me chocolate under the kitchen table."
"You know, I don't even remember what chocolate tastes like."
"It's sweet. We should steal some from the kitchen."
"Yeah. Hey, Matt?"
"What?"
"When we steal or lie...or do anything bad...do you...?"
"I know. Yeah. I can almost feel the stripes, too."
"...I'm glad it isn't just me. Do you ever think about...?"
"The Matron. Yeah. And the other kids there."
"Yeah. She was a pedophile, wasn't she?"
"I think so. She never made us boys get naked, but I always saw girls stumbling out of her office with their clothes under their arms."
"But she hit us harder. The girls never bled. They just had bruises and welts. Did you notice the photos on her desk? She had a daughter of her own. I wonder what happened to her."
"Who knows?"
"Hey, do you ever think about Momma?"
"Every night."
"I miss her."
"Me too."
"...Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"Say it. Please."
"Mello, I can't. We shouldn't."
"Please. I just want to hear it. Just one more time."
"Fine. Mihael."
"Thank you."
"...Say mine?"
"Sure. Mail."
"...Thanks."
July 2, 2001"Matt, let's just forget it. Roger's already caught us stealing and sneaking once this week. I don't want to get into trouble with him."
"Quiet, Mello, or you'll blow our cover. We're just getting chocolate. It's no big deal."
"Matt…"
The partners-in-crime glided silently across the tiled floor of the Wammy Kitchen. Mello hesitated, glancing around as though someone would spot them and sound the alarms. Matt crept quietly, focused on one mission: getting chocolate for Mello.
"It should be in the pantry," Matt mumbled under his breath. He looked around carefully before he slipped his pocketknife between the door and wall. The lock gave way easily, granting them access to the bounty inside. He tugged Mello's wrist roughly, pulling the blonde inside and easing the door shut.
Matt turned to the tall shelves crammed with food. His eyes bulged at the sheer quantity of the food at Wammy's. He ran his fingers across labels, feeling for the one familiar package that he knew was in there.
"Found it," Matt smiled. "We can leave now. Mello?"
Mello froze. He shoved his hand onto Matt's mouth, silencing the struggling redhead. Matt's eyes widened as he heard what had startled Mello – footsteps. Cautiously, he pulled Mello's hand away from his mouth and crouched near the slatted pantry door. He peeked out into the kitchen, watching the footsteps cross in front of their hiding place. Behind him, Mello dropped to his knees in silent prayer. The skin on Matt's back began to tingle as his heart rate sped up. He closed his eyes, knowing that they were inches away from being caught…
But the footsteps went away. The person exited the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone in their silent misery. Without saying a word, Matt took Mello by the hand and half-dragged him back to their room.
Once safe inside their room, Matt sat down on his bed, suddenly completely exhausted. Mello sat beside him, unwilling to be apart from his partner-in-crime after such a close call. Matt dug around in his vest pocket until his fingers closed around the small bar of Hershey's that they had risked so much to find.
"Here," he said, passing the chocolate bar to Mello. "Eat it. Chocolate."
"Thanks," Mello smiled softly, breaking off a piece for Matt. "I haven't had chocolate since…I don't remember when. I don't remember what it tastes like."
"That's why I wanted you to taste it," Matt grinned, punching Mello softly in the arm.
Mello pulled a rectangle of chocolate away with his teeth, allowing it to melt on his tongue. A flood of warmth rushed over him, sending electrical pulses to his memory. He closed his eyes, rolling the silky chocolate around his whole mouth.
"My mother…" He whispered.
"What about your mother?" Matt asked.
"She gave me chocolate. This chocolate reminds me of her. She was…blonde. And beautiful. And she smelled like gingerbread. She kept chocolate in her purse. I was so little. She would hand a Hershey Kiss to me when I became fussy, and she would say, 'Mihael, if I gave you a kiss, would you be happy?'" Mello's eyes remained closed, envisioning the mother from his distant past. "She made me feel so…loved…"
"Mello…" Matt leaned over and embraced the blonde in a tight hug. "I'm so glad that you have that memory of your Mama. I'm glad we stole the chocolate."
"Me too," Mello whispered. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. "I miss her so much, Matt."
"Mello, Mello…" Matt hugged the weeping boy, rocking him gently like his own Momma once did. "Hey, Mello? If I give you a kiss, would you be happy?"
Mello looked up at the redhead, eyes showing both confusion and longing. Matt smiled and pulled a Hershey Kiss from his pocket, placing it in the palm of his best friend.
"Thanks Matt. You're the best friend I've ever had. We'll be together forever, right?"
"Of course. We'll be best friends for life. We'll grow up together, live together, and die together. We're best friends until the end."
"I'm glad, Matt." Mello smiled. "I don't want to die alone."