'Parental Advisory'

-by xxTheInsaneOnexx

This fic contains no shota whatsoever, despite what you may believe (and what I may enjoy). Matt is straight, Mello is four, Misa is a dumbass. Three-or at least two things that don't usually linger in the world of fanfiction. Expect much father son bonding, through the good and bad times! ;3 Enjoy everyone, and watch out for quite a bit of cursing, but no lemon (sadly)...


Chapter One: Arrow to the Knee

Misa stood on my doorstep, a huge grin on those bright red lips of her's. She pulled me into a tight hug, her sluttily dressed tits encircling my frame. The blonde left a small peck on my cheek, (of which I'm sure left a mark) before pulling back.

"Matty! It's so good to see you~! How are you~?"

That horribly high-pitched, sugar-sweet voice resounded in my head. Only Misa.

"Misa... God, what are you doing here...?"

What was that thing next to her? It looked almost human-almost a copy of Misa herself.

"Say hello to your son! His name's Mello~! Say 'hi', Mello!"

The little boy mumbled a small 'hello' before nuzzling himself into Misa's leg, holding onto her for dear life.

Your. Son. Mello. Did all those words mean to come out in that particular arrangement or did it just happen randomly?

"Son...what do you mean, son?"

The blonde giggled lightly, brushing past me into my home, the midget following along like a puppy. "What do you mean 'what do I mean'? This is your son! What is there to get~?"

"Oh, I don't know. Possibly some fucking information and an explanation would be nice!"

"Matty, language... Mello's only four after all!" She pouted, giving me what she would describe as a glare; I would describe it as a horribly failed attempt to send fear through my veins.

So he was four. He was pretty small for a four year old, thin and short, with a full head of light blonde hair. He donned clothes much too big for him, black just as his mother's clothes.

"Explanation. Go."

Misa sighed, swiping a few loose strands of hair behind her ear before speaking. "Well...after we broke up five years ago I found out I was pregnant. I tried calling a million times but you never returned my calls, and after a while it said the phone had been disconnected! So I figured you didn't care and I went through with pregnancy all on my own,"

"You couldn't, I dunno, come over and show me you were pregnant? Just because you called a million freaking times doesn't mean I heard any of your messages!"

"Grumpy, aren't we Matty?" she pouted once more, crossing her arms at the chest. "Well, by that point I was all fat and ugly, and I couldn't let you see me like that!"

What a conceited bitch. No wonder I broke up with her. Always worrying about her modeling and how she looked, always on some sort of drug or hormone pill. Either I would fall into the same hole or I would break up with her in order to get my life back together.

I chose the prior, yet she still found some damn way to worm herself in my life.

"So he's my son. Great. What was it you needed me for?"

I was a bit pissed off. Just a tad.

"Weeell..." she gave me those huge blue eyes of her's, her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed in sadness, "I have to go to Japan for a week for some modeling, and my normal babysitter isn't available this week so..."

"You wanted me to watch him?"

"Would you? Please, Matty? For all the good times we had together?"

I was barely able to refrain from blurting out 'what good times', and I bit back my lip.

She doesn't tell me about this for five years, then suddenly out of the blue comes to my door asking if I could watch the kid I've never seen before? How fucking rash. She just gets things into her head expecting me to go along with them...

"Pleaaaase?"

My eyes wandered down to the little boy still attached at the hip (quite literally) of his mother. He looked almost nothing like me, except for those eyes. Underneath the mass of feathery bangs were two huge brown eyes, looking up at me with fear. It struck a chord somewhere with me, reminding me of myself near that age, staring at myself in the mirror at Wammy's...a time I had forgotten...

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Not really," she smiled, leaning up to place yet another kiss on my cheek, "I knew I could count on you, Matty~!"

Last I checked, I hadn't quite said yes.

"Hang on, I'll go get his things out of the taxi!"

She turned with a slight spring in her step and skipping to the awaiting taxi, smiling ear to ear.

The child watched his mother leave, a sad little look on his face with his hand reaching out in need.

This little thing was my child? A shy little kid who looked almost nothing like me? My mind was reeling with questions, and I knew Misa would be no help in answering them. She had a one track mind; and to deter her from that track would be disaster.

Before long, she reappeared, carrying a suitcase with a sickening amount of cute, and a small stuffed dinosaur. Mello took the dinosaur quickly into his arms, holding it to his chest as if one of us planned to take it from him.

"Alrighty... I have my number written on a little sheet of paper in his suitcase, call me if you need anything~! Thank you again, Matty! I don't know what I'd do without you~!"

"Mmm," I muttered a reply, my eyes locked on the thing that was my son.

Misa turned her attention to the being still hiding behind her, and she bent down, wrapping her arms around the scared child.

"I'll be back soon, ok Mello? Mama loves you~! Be good to Matt, and make sure you call me if he does anything bad!" she kissed his head and gave him a tight squeeze.

"Bye Mama..." he squeezed her back, nuzzling into her shoulder, "Come back soon..."

She stood, smiling, and rustled a hand through his hair. "Well, my taxi's waiting..." she turned to leave, brushing through her hair, "Thank you Matt! Goodbye Mello~!" she blew a kiss to Mello, before exiting and closing the door behind her.

We were left alone in an awkward silence that could be cut with a knife. Mello stood stuck to the same place, looking down at his feet with his dinosaur still in his arms. I remained the same as well, shoving my hands into my pockets for lack of something better to do with them.

"So...Mello..."

No reply.

"I guess... I'm your dad... Matt..."

No reply.

"So um...what..." What? WHAT? What do you ask a four year old to get to know him? In fact what do you say? How much vocabulary do they know? Did this kid even talk other than 'hello' and 'goodbye'? "What...do you like to do?"

He thought for a moment, continuing to stare at his feet, before finally answering, his speech terribly hard to understand due to an inability to pronounce most r's and l's.

"I 'wike coloring...and p'waying 'wif toys...and choco'wate..."

Chocolate was something you did?

Wait...dammit Matt, get your mind out of the gutter. The kid was four for God's sake!

"Hm... I see..."

The silence would have continued thereafter for quite some time had Mello not wandered off, toting his stuffed animal along with him. Curiously I followed, watching and following as he found the living room and my abandoned Xbox controller. He hopped on the couch, and sat the animal next to himself with extreme care. He stared at the controller a moment, cocking his head, before he took it into his hands, moving the joysticks and randomly pressing buttons. In the middle of this he had played the game.

Fuck. I had been in the middle of Skyrim, in the midst of killing a frost troll, and could NOT have, by any means, a child screw it up.

I ran to the couch, snapping the controller out of his hands and pausing it once more, my health dangerously low.

I bit back a curse, knowing Misa would have my balls if Mello learned some cuss words from me, and set the controller aside.

"Do...not...mess with my games," I muttered through my teeth, sending the child a glare.

He stared up at me, his hands still in the position as if holding the controller. His expression went from blank, right into the saddest, most heartbroken expression anyone could ever have. Tears sprung from his eyes, and began pouring down his cheeks in large numbers.

Oh shit shit fuck god damn Hell.

"Do-Don't cry, Mello! It-It's ok!" I tried to have him hear me over his loud little whimpers and sniffles, unsure as of what to do. Did I hug him? Touch him? Ignore it?

"S-S-S-So'wee...j-just...w-wanted to p-p-p'way..." his voice cracked and waned, and for whatever reason my heart seemed to drop into my stomach.

"Uh-er-I-um-"

What should I do?

"Here!"

The small blonde made a small whimper at feeling something hit his lap, and looked up from his despair. There lay the controller, so pristine, white, and awaiting fingers to press its buttons. (Pornographic videogame consoles for the win).

"There. Play. It's fine."

"'Weally?" he hiccupped, wiping a tear away from his cheek.

"Yeah..." God, this would be difficult to watch.

A small smile formed on his cheeks, a cute dorky smile that sort of reminded me of my own, and he pressed the start button once more.

Two hits and I was dead.

I hid my face from the bloodshed that would follow, hearing as Mello randomly killed citizens, chickens, and was subsequently killed by every beast imaginable.

I am such a good person.


Bedtime was a joke; when Mello arrived at my apartment it was late afternoon, and after dining on macaroni and cheese and watching television, I decided I would make Mello a little bed on the couch.

"No! Couches a'we for watching T.V and beds a'we for s'weeping! I gots to s'weep on a bed!"

"I only have one bed and it's mine, the couch is comfy!"

"Noooooo! I gots to s'weep on a bed!" Mello proceeded to lie on the couch face down, arms crossed, refusing to move. I wondered if I left him like that if he would just fall asleep, but I couldn't do it.

"What if I made you a bed on the floor?"

He made a muffled 'No!' and shook his head, refusing still to move from his spot.

Fuck. Fuck this shit.

"...If I let you sleep in my bed with me will you go RIGHT. NOW?"

Mello thought for a moment, lying on his stomach without a word, before sitting up quietly. He nodded, and brought his dinosaur with him as he went up the stairs and into my bedroom.

The rest of my house was unusually clean, having been lonely and bored, but the bedroom was one area I hadn't quite gotten to yet. Clothes littered the floor along with cigarettes, ashes, trash and computer related items.

"It smells yucky in here..."

"Yeah, you'll have to get used to it..."

I was past the point of dealing with complaints. This kid seemed to be full of them.

He sat down on my soft bed, attempting to take his shirt off. It got stuck half-way, his head hidden underneath the fabric. I sighed, helping him with difficulty.

"Need PJs~..."

I did as I was told, going through his suitcase until what could be described as pajamas. They were sickeningly cute, with little animals such as elephants, tigers, et cetera placed in subsequent pattern. When I came back to Mello he was in pale blue boxers, standing on my bed, awaiting his faithful servant to tend to his every need.

After I dressed him, he finally agreed to lie down, pulling the sheets up to his chin. He made sure the stuffed dino next to him was comfy and that he wasn't cold, before looking up at me.

"S'weep wi'f me... I'm 'wone'wy..."

Fuck, was hard to understand him.

I complied, (how could I not, the whole thing was still confusing the shit out of me), and began to lie down next to him, clothes and all.

"Wait! Aren't you gonna get PJs on?"

"Wasn't planning on it,"

"No! Gots to get PJs on! It's 'da rules,"

"Who says?"

Where in the world did he come up with these ideas?

"Um..." he didn't know what to say about that, "Just do it!"

With an over-the-top groan I stood up properly, taking my shirt and pants off quite rougher than needed, and falling into bed next to the blonde in just my boxers.

Mello looked me up and down, confusion on his face. "You sleep nakie?"

"I have underwear on!" I did, typically, sleep naked, but I figured that wouldn't be the most appropriate thing for Mello to see. I figured him to complain, yet he didn't. He laughed.

"Daddy...you're silly," he giggled, snuggling up under the blankets more so, and making sure I was covered well too.

Daddy? That was the first time he had called me something... It sounded...unnatural.

"Daddy...Mama said you were a big dummy and would be mean to me but..." he smiled, scooting ever so closer to myself, "I 'wike you!"

"Hm..." What does one say to that?

He gasped, looking up at me suddenly. I blinked, beginning to freak out in anticipation,

"You still gots 'dose big g'wasses on!"

Oh...my goggles?

"Oh... I guess you're right..." I mumbled, taking off them and wincing at the sudden burst of light that hit me. As I grew used to it, I opened my eyes to Mello, staring at me with a smile.

"You 'wook more p'wetty 'dat way,"

I could feel blush spring to my cheeks, and I got up to turn off the light before snuggling back under the sheets.

"Goodnight..."

"'Night Daddy!"

It didn't take long until Mello was sound asleep, lying partially on his side, one hand holding his animal. The moonlight from the window opposite him hit his frame enough to cast his body in white light. I watched as he breathed, it being only like... nine P.M, and let my mind spin. This kid was extremely annoying, yet endearing. I suppose some sort of inner parental instinct had kicked in that night as I watched him, for the true magnitude of what he was hit me. He was my child, the creation of my sperm, and he was mine. I had half to say in his creation, and, if only for the week, I had say in whether he survived or not. It was a job that terrified me, taking care of something so small and helpless. Like having a pet, with about four million times the responsibility.

It would only be a week, yet I wanted to see him more than that. I wanted to be there to make sure he was ok, to make sure he did well in life.

The next morning I awoke to a call that I would just do that. That Misa Amane had died in a car crash, and I was the one who would have full custody over Mihael Mello Amane. Or as it was now, Mihael Mello Jeevas.