A Childhood Fairytale: The Chocolate Incident

(Takes place at Whammy's; Mello is 11, Matt is 10)

"My chocolate!" was the first thing Matt heard in the early morning. He grunted something incoherent and turned over to his other side.

"Damn it, Matt, did you mess with my freakin' chocolate?!" Someone grabbed his shoulder and shook him wildly awake. "Did you?!"

The ten-year old sat up. Because he was young and last night he had been staying up on his DS, it took a while for him to be fully awake. His eyesight was still a little blurry and he grabbed for his goggles, sitting on his bedside table. He clumsily put them on, the lenses somewhat helping with his vision. He squinted his eyes at his roommate. "Wha'?"

A chocolate bar, opened and half eaten, was shoved underneath his nose. The smell of the sweet delicacy drifted into his nostrils. Mello waved the bar slowly, tantalizingly. "Did you mess with my chocolate?" He asked a little more calmly, but Matt could still hear the hysterics in his voice. No one, no one, messed with Mello or his chocolate. Well, sometimes Near did subconsciously.

Matt opened his mouth to say something important. However, what came out was, "Your nose is pink."

Upon hearing this, Mello screeched and stormed out of their room. The redhead caught a brief glimpse of his flushed face.

Realizing that he might as well have set a rhinoceros on the loose, Matt shot up to his feet. He stumbled out of the room they shared, yelling, "Mello! Mello! Don't--" Ah, but it was too late. Mello had already yanked the open the door to their fellow orphans' rooms. Screams of terror emitted from inside.

"Mels, calm down," Matt said, horrified. He ran over to his best friend, pulling him away from the doorway. Two very scared Destiny and Arianna stumbled out and ran away.

"Don't...call me that," Mello mumbled, suddenly going limp. Matt buckled at the sudden weight and did his best not to fall over. He was the gamer, not the one who was all freakily muscled and athletic. Matt promised himself that he will never, ever become like those guys on TV, advertising for a weights gym.

Talk about scary.

Mello sniffed. "I want chocolate." He was a year older than his best friend, but at times he acted like he was the younger one. His leather wear started slipping from Matt's grip, so Matt let him fall on the carpeted floor.

"You had some on your dresser." Matt scratched the back of his head, thinking of the other various places where the blonde stored his chocolate.

"I mean, chocolate that isn't screwed up." Mello muttered some obscenities that I cannot repeat, staggering to his feet.

"How the heck can chocolate be screwed up?" Matt asked. "Besides the alcohol that sometimes--"

"Chocolate that I can taste!" Mello cut him off angrily. He whipped out a chocolate bar from his pocket, holding it out to Matt. His friend took a bite out hesitantly.

"Tastes fine to me," Matt said, swallowing the sweet. "Mel, you're...flushed."

The other boy started denying it, but it was true. Mello's face was a light shade of pink, his nose only a shade darker. "I'm fi--ah, ah, achoo!" He sneezed, tumbling backwards, into Matt's legs.

"Ma-att!" Mello whined, clutching one of Matt's legs. "I. Want. Chocolate." He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking on his thumb childishly.

"You have some, right there." Matt ripped the chocolate bar out of Mello's hand. "Quit screwing around."

Mello's eyes widened to about the size of dinner plates and he immediately screamed, "MINE!" He grabbed the chocolate back from Matt and rolled away until his back hit the wall. He chewed on the chocolate, eye twitching, looking rabid.

"M-mello?" Matt cautiously took a step closer.

His best friend hissed at him.

"Um, are you feeling okay?"

Hiss.

"You look like you're sick."

Hiss.

"...Why...are you hissing like a snake?"

Mid-hiss, Mello coughed and jerked forward. He upchucked last night's dinner onto the nice floor.

Matt pushed up his goggles to his forehead, looking worried. He helped the blonde up, stepping carefully around the puddle of puke. "We're going to see Roger, okay?" He cooed, helping Mello walk.

"Nuuuuu. Chocolate. Want to taste...chocolate," Mello mumbled.

"And then you'll get your chocolate."

"Pwomise?"

Matt bit back a laugh. "Promise."

--

Neither boys had been sick in their whole life, so it came as a surprise when Roger declared that Mello had the flu.

"Have you eaten more chocolate than usual?" The old man asked him.

Mello shook his head. Well, there was that one night...

"Have you stayed up way past your curfew?"

"No." Maybe last night and the night before...MAYBE, OKAY?

"Played in the rain?"

Mello looked up in surprise at this question. Roger was strict about not letting anyone play outside when it was raining. All though about three days before, he had dragged Matt along with him to retrieve his lost rosary from the day before. His rosary, next to chocolate and leather, was about the most important thing to him.

The trip ended up with them getting lost in the woods that harbored the Wammy House. When the first signs of rain occured, Matt instantly started telling Mello they should get back. But, because Mello was Mello, he told Matt to go back on his own and he would not leave until his possession was found. Matt, feeling guilty, stayed with him. The rain worsened throughout the night, and they were forced to leave Mello's rosary. They hunkered down in a low, thick branch. They fell asleep back-to-back until the next morning. Near found them and got the wrong idea.

Matt and Mello managed to convince the sheepy person not to tell anyone. They went back to the house, acting as though they'd just woken up earlier. No one seemed to suspect them.

"Well?"

Mello was pulled out of his reverie and looked at Roger. "No."

Roger, with his children-hating eyes, stared hard at Mello. "Mello, do you want or not want to taste chocolate ever again?"

Mello's lower lip trembled. "Fine!" He shouted. "Me and Matt got lost in the woods a while ago and we wandered all night and it rained and rained a lot and NOW I CAN'T TASTE MY CHOCOLATE."

Roger smiled, though Mello sensed malice underlying it. Jerk. "It's official, then," the old man said. "You have the flu."

"BUT WHY CAN'T I TASTE MY CHOCOLATE?" Mello asked for the umpteenth time.

"Jeez, Mello, you're so thick for a genius," a playful voice piped up.

Mello turned to his best friend who'd gone unnoticed all this time. "Yeah, what's it to you, dumbass?"

"When you have the flu, you usually can't taste sweet stuff." Matt shrugged, not taking his eyes off his muted PSP. "One would think the great Mello would know that."

Mello gritted his teeth. "Well, I've never been sick before," he hissed. "How was I supposed to know?"

"Didn't you ace that test on Medicine?" Matt asked boredly.

Before Mello could retort, Roger cut in, "Boys, please take this somewhere else."

Evil bastard, Mello thought snidely. Hates us all. The chocoholic knew that Roger wanted them to object, so that he could have an excuse to punish them.

Matt seemed to have figured the same thing, because he put away his PSP and walked out of the office with Mello. "So, how long do you think you're going to be sick?" He asked, pushing his goggles up to the top of his head.

Mello shrugged weakly. "Don't know." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I want chocolaaaaate."

Matt wrapped an arm around the other's shoulders in a half-hug. "Don't worry about it; you'll be fine in no time. Flus usually don't last a long time, as long as you don't stay up or play in the rain and stuff."

Mello huffed. "Fine. But I refuse to be the only one suffering."

Matt looked up. "And I refuse to lick your boots until I get the flu myself."

Damn, Mello thought. "All right. How about you being my personal maid as I heal?"

A blush seeped into Matt's face and he reached up to replace his goggles on top of his eyes. "Um...okay."

Mello grinned. "Great."

The End