Disclaimer: I don't own Mello or Matt or Death Note...-sigh-
Rating: T for mucho language.
A/N: This was just a random idea that popped into my head, so I went with it...And the moral is that the moral is not the moral which is the moral. :3 This is AU crack and not meant to be taken seriously. ;) (Oh, and yes the title is a play on the Pink song...)
The blonde walked sluggishly up the six steps leading to the doorway of his joint apartment. He'd just gotten back from Hell, where he was forced to sit next to Medusa the twenty dollar whore and Hades god of the Underworld drug ring for two hours. Really, he was sure they had introduced themselves but he didn't bother to learn their names considering he just didn't care and would like nothing better than to strangle them both. Parole sucked, and it wasn't like starting bar fights was actually illegal, right? I mean, what was he supposed to do? Three weird guys with five o'clock shadows whom smelled of burned cheese and tobacco start hitting on you and touching your ass, well it is only natural to lodge a bullet in one of their skulls and throw the other through a glass window. At least that was what Hollywood had been teaching their children now apparently. He had caught his roommate and ever present pain-in-the-ass Matt watching "The Sopranos" on prime time TV a few weeks back. He could just imagine all the giddy ten year olds jumping up and down when nine o'clock rolled around and telling their clueless little mommy who was going to ice who tonight.
Mello stopped at the door, almost too tired to reach out and turn the door knob. His brain told him to quite acting like a fucking pansy and open the door, but his body told him he'd been deprived of chocolate for two hours and that he should just crash right there on the doorstep. He turned the knob. His brain did always win in these arguments, oh well. Mello pushed the door open slowly, if Matt was asleep, which he probably was considering he slept pretty much three-fourths of the day, everyday, then the blonde didn't want to wake his drowsy friend accidentally and be forced to answer a lot of stupid un-wanted questions. He closed the door slowly; it still made a low creaking noise, but hopefully not enough to wake the living zombie in the other room. He walked passed the kitchen and into the living room, where sure enough a lanky red-head lay sprawled across the couch with a PS2 controller sitting on his chest moving up and down in time with his heavy breathing. The blonde boy kicked off his combat boots still trying to keep all noise to a minimum as he dragged his tired body into the bedroom. It was small, and the wallpaper was pealing but he didn't mind as long as his bed wasn't repossessed or something. Not that people can actually repossess things you just happen to "find". Exhausted, he lay down on the bed, crossing both arms over his head, normally he had trouble falling asleep but then there were those days when everything was just so taxing he was out in a matter of seconds. This happened to be one of those days.
------------------------------
Matt opened one eye and peeked into the bedroom. His friend was asleep, perfect. He knew the other boy hated it when he would bombard him with questions after every session Mello was forced to go to. He was always agitated afterwards, mostly because he kept falling into "relapse" as they called it, and was forced to have longer sessions, and more of them. It seemed every time he'd start to get better, something or someone would piss him off and he would end up worse than when he'd started. Mello claimed that he was fine, and he didn't need anyone's help, yeah right, Matt didn't believe a word of it. But today while kicking some Talim ass on Soul Calibur while his roommate was out, Matt had an epiphany. He knew a sure fire way to see if Mello was as "perfectly fine" as he claimed to be. And this was the moment he'd been waiting all day for to unleash his master plan. The gamer carefully removed the controller from his chest and laid it on the end table. Stealthily, he snuck into Mello's room where the blonde was out cold. He quietly lowered himself onto the bed next to his slepping friend and propped himself on his elbow. Reaching out a hand he gently shook the blondes shoulder until he began to stir. Mello's eyelids began to quiver, Matt gave one final shake and the blondes eyes shot open.
"Good morning sunshine, how was anger management?"
------------------------------
Mello hadn't been dreaming really, but it was a peaceful REM he'd been in when he felt his shoulders being jerked. He tried his best to simply shrug it off since it was rare he'd have anything but a fitful rest, unfortunately the nudging didn't stop. His eyelids shot open revealing intense jade green eyes that were anything but amused.
"Matt…" He hissed and forcefully shoved his annoying roommate off the bed. "What the hell are you doing?! I spend two fucking hours of my life in a damn hell-hole listening to twenty moronic strangers whine about their stupid issues and you have the nerve to come in here and wake me up, you bastard!"
Matt grinned, he was right, this did work better than just asking. "I see you've gone back into relapse. You know you could have seriously injured me, shoving me off the bed like that." Matt shifted onto his knees on the floor and looked at the blonde boy bemused. "I can't play video games if I'm paralyzed from the shoulders down."
The boy on the bed sighed and raked a hand through his golden hair. "I'm…..Sorry….I guess."
The red head smiled up at him, "Well you are making some progress I see. A month ago you weren't even able to apologize."
Mello sighed deeply, "I know, I just hate this…And I hate anger management. It just makes me angrier."
"Hmm…" Matt lifted himself off the floor and sank onto the edge of Mello's bed. "I think I know how to get you out of those classes, that is, if you are willing to let me help you."
The blonde traced the creases in the bed sheets with his finger. It couldn't hurt; maybe Matt actually could help him. And if it would get him out of anger management he was all for it. "Okay, what do I have to do?"
Matt stood and stretched his arms above his head as he walked through the doorway to the living room. "Just go to sleep, I'll take care of everything." He closed the door behind him, leaving Mello to figure out for himself how to fall asleep once again.
------------------------------
The alarm clock next to his bed was making the most annoying beeping sound, like a canary trying to puke up a rubber duck, but Mello didn't want to heed its warnings, he didn't want to wake up, and he more than anything did not want to go to his anger management session.
But oddly enough he suddenly felt a tingling sensation on his face. It went away almost as quickly as it had come, but within seconds there it was again; a weird cold prickling against his cheek. Finally after the third cold tickle brushed his face he opened his eyes, only to see a grinning red head standing above his bed with a spray bottle full of water.
"What the hell Matt?! I was going to get up myself!" Mello rubbed his tired eyes and cursed.
"Sorry Mello, but you were supposed to wake up at seven A.M." Matt pulled the trigger back on the squirt bottle again and spritzed the blonde with more cold water.
Mello brushed the water off angrily and looked at the clock. "It is seven A.M. you moron!" He said through gritted teeth.
"Tsk stk, Mello" Matt shook his head. "It is thirty seconds passed." Another squirt.
"Big fucking deal! So I slept in thirty seconds? And why the hell do you keep squirting me with that stupid spray bottle?! Knock it off!" Mello replied angrily.
"Discipline is important Mello." The red head looked triumphantly at the spray bottle in his hand, "This my friend is your ticket out of anger management and therapy forever."
The blonde rolled his eyes, "Oh really, and how is a plastic bottle going to do all that?" he asked sarcastically.
"Simple," Matt replied, "Every time you do something bad, or get angry, I will squirt you with this spray bottle." The red head shook the spray bottle he was holding.
"Matt, I'm not a fucking cat jumping on your counter." Mello said unamused.
Matt squirted him for the umpteenth time.
"Hey! I didn't do anything wrong!" Mello wiped the water off his face yet again.
"Your mouth is vulgar, you need to work on that." The gamer grinned.
"So do you dipshit, but I don't go around squirting you in the face with cold water!" Growled the blonde.
"Yeah, well I am not the one going to two hour anger management sessions and therapy five times a week." Matt squirted him again then blew over the top of his spray bottle like an overheated gun, "Deal with it, bitch."
------------------------------
Mello walked through the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to survey the contents inside. He'd been on his best behavior all morning, and managed to get away with only becoming slightly soggy. Luckily Matt was in the other room playing videogames, and that meant he'd be in his own little world for the next few hours, leaving the blonde boy free of the evil spray bottle. Ah, there it was. He reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of chocolate milk. Mello pressed it to his lips and tilted his chin back to take a giant gulp. Squirt. He ignored the wet on the back of his head and continued to chug the milk. Squirt, Squirt, Squirt. Finally Mello caved and spun around to face Satan and his spray bottle from Hell. "Why are you squirting me?! I didn't even do anything!" Mello whined.
The gamer pointed to the bottle of chocolate milk the other boy was holding. "You were drinking out of the bottle."
"So?!" The blonde practically screamed.
"So," said Matt, "It isn't courteous to others who wanted a drink of milk."
Mello threw his head back in annoyance. "Why do you care?! You are lactose intolerant!"
Squirt. "You need to learn to take others into consideration more."
"This is fucking ridiculous!" Mello yelled at his friend.
The last remark earned him six squirts, one of which was a direct hit to the eye.
------------------------------
"Don't break the dishes just because they don't fit in the dishwasher."
Squirt.
"Even if the pizza boy did put mushrooms on it, that gives you no right to knock him out."
Squirt
"I know it was your hairbrush, you need to learn to share."
Squirt, Squirt, Squirt.
------------------------------
Mello stomped into the living room with a towel draped over his damp head. "Okay I get it Matt, I get it!!!" he shouted at the gamer on the couch.
Matt continued pounding the buttons on his Xbox controller, not bothering to look up. "What are you rambling about?" He said blandly, he was using every ounce of his concentration to defeat Bowser.
"I get your stupid spray bottle analogy; you wanted me to realize that I really do need my anger management and therapy sessions because I can't improve myself alone. You wanted me to learn that I need to open up to other people who will be there to dry me off when I screw up and get squirted, right?"
The gamer kept his eyes glued to the television screen as he answered. "Mello…What the hell are you talking about?"
The blonde blinked, taken aback "You mean…there wasn't some kind of moral lesson I was supposed to learn from this?"
Matt laughed in Mello's general direction. "Moral lesson? What the fuck Mello, I just wanted to screw with your head!"
Mello's jaw dropped, he lunged for the gamer and tackled him off the couch. "You bastard, I am going to fucking kill you!!!"
The red head wrestled to get away from the crazed blonde that was attacking him, but to no avail. "This is what I'd call a step back…"
------------------------------
"Mello, would you stand up please Mello?" The woman in the white coat called to him.
The blonde stood reluctantly, he had an indecently large black eye and half his lip was swollen. "Yes?"
"Mello, is it true that you put another boy in the hospital?" The woman asked.
"Well I-" He started.
"The truth Mello, just tell me the truth." She said sternly.
"Yes, I did." He admitted.
"You know what this means don't you, Mello?" The shrink inquired.
"I don't get a sticker?" He said sarcastically.
"Well let's just say we will be seeing a whole lot more of each other for the next year or so." She smiled a big fake happy smile.
Oh fucking yey, just what I always wanted…a therapy therapist.
Major crack, 'nough said.
-Fatal Error