For Nate, Christmas never came.
When Mello had been a Mafioso, with Matt faithfully by his side, Msquared were unstoppable. Their mafia half-believed that the glorious chocolate-lover and his red-head would rule the mafia for years to come.
But that changed when they attacked the Yellow Scarves. There, they'd found something that disturbed even the cold, leather-clad Mafioso. They found a prostitution ring. Now, they'd found this sort of ring before, but this one was sickeningly different. This one was different, because all the whores were children.
Needless to say, blood was spilled that night. And, for good measure, Mello had hit the detonator, and the building had gone up in smoke. Matt and the children were outside, a good distance away, but Mello had still been inside.
They saved him.
As Mello lay in hospital, Matt deposited the children into an orphanage… all except one. A little boy, with pale skin and silver hair, had clung to Matt's leg for dear life.
"Hey," Matt had said, as gently as he could manage, "You've gotta go now… no one's going to hurt you now."
"Yes they will!" the boy screamed, "H-H-He adopted me… and then… he sold me… I don't wanna go to the orphanage, I don't wanna!" the boy gripped Matt tightly, burying his face in Matt's stomach.
For the first time in years, Matt's heart had melted. Killing, raiding, executing… Matt was empty. But this little boy…
No. The little boy stays in the orphanage, end of discussion.
He smelt like smoke, with subtle hints of chocolate and sex. He wasn't huge and squishy, but not wiry; he was… a good size to cuddle. Soft, warm and cuddle-sized. Kind, like Christmas.
"Why is one of the kids here?" Mello snapped, sitting upright in the hospital bed, bandages covering the left side of his body. "You supposed to leave them at the care-home."
"Mels…" Matt sat by his blonde bombshell of a buddy, "I think we need to quit the Mafia."
"Excuse me? One does not simply quit the Mafia."
"You're the boss. We're rich, Mels, we don't need the money, and I don't need you getting yourself blown up again."
Mello began to protest, but then Matt sent him that look… puppy-dog eyes, filled with desperation, begging and pleading, tears already welling up in the corners of the green orbs, ready to spill over in Matt doesn't get his way. His lip quivers, his chin wrinkled, and a sob twists in his throat.
Mello sighed. "And how do you propose we 'quit'?"
"Leave. Write a note, handing the Mafia over to Rod Ross, and we leave."
"They'll find us. You know they don't like quitters."
"We leave town. Hell, we leave the country. America; land of the free. No one will ask questions about a young gay couple and their adopted son."
"Gay… okay, we never came out of the closet, but… adopted son?"
"Near didn't wanna go to the orphanage," Matt nodded in the boy's direction. "There's virtually no record of him ever existing. There'll be no question, not creating fake lives, we can just go to America and say he's adopted. The documents can be easily faked, we're safe, he's safe, and we can be a happy little family. One of us can get a job, he'll go to school, we'll look normal."
Mello smiled. "Are you sure this will work?"
"Ninety-three per cent."
"Well, kid. Looks like we're your parents now."
The boy leapt up, and dived onto Mello, hugging him tight. Mello gritted his teeth, scowling a little. But the boy… the boy was happy. And he was warm. Mello wrapped his arms around the albino, and hugged him back.
He smelt clean, but the chocolate and sex were still there… and a little smoke too. He was smaller than Matt, but his feminine figure meant that Nate could get closer to him, and snuggle into him more. Nate liked that. He was cold yet peaceful, like Christmas.
"Here are your keys, and welcome to America."
Mail Jeevas, Miheal Keehl and their son, Nate River, stood before their new house in Newtown, Connecticut. No more leather, no more goggles, no more guns. No more Mafia. New names. New lives and backgrounds. The Jeevas-Keehl family were ready for their new life.
They took him away from all the meanness.
Nate enjoyed school. Mail enjoyed working in the local computer shop. Miheal enjoyed playing house-husband.
At first, it was all pretend. Nate was mostly there to set the illusion of a family, and he knew this.
Near fitted into the role of 'Nate' very well. He brought drawings home for his daddies, was quiet and respectful, played with the children in the neighbourhood. He'd run up to Mail as the red-head came home, politely as Miheal what he'd made for tea, and he'd kiss and cuddle his daddies the way any little boy would.
It had been an empty feeling.
It wasn't until Nate fell sick that the 'family' drew together. Miheal made him soup, fluffed his pillows, etc. but as his condition took a turn for the worse, Miheal began to worry. Mail's boss sent Mail home, saying "your boy's always been pale and sickly."
Miheal would check on Nate more and more often, and the pale boy slowly got over his flu. Miheal sat with him, and read him a story, which Nate listened to eagerly. Mail smiled as he watched Mello slowly melt away.
So lonely.
When Nate returned to school, Miheal felt lonely in the empty house. When Nate got home, he found a giant white-frosted vanilla cake waiting for him. It was then that the illusion melted away, taking Matt, Mello and Near with it.
Near loved him daddies. And his daddies loved him too.
On 14th December, evil visited the community.
They were a family.
Nate heard bangs, and screaming. It was total panic.
Nate was looking forward to his first real Christmas.
Miheal cried at the funeral, and Mail just stood dumbly, unable to comfort his lover.
As Miheal dried his eyes, the blue orbs grew cold. Mello and Matt came clawing their way back, as the lovers walked away. They didn't go back to the house. They just left. They left the presents in the cupboard that will never be unwrapped. They left the snow in the garden that will never be touched. They left the body in the ground that will never be cuddled again.
That bastard took their son. Matt and Mello will be sure he pays. Until then, there would be no Christmas. Because for their son, Nate, Christmas never came.