(Note - My internet connection currently: FUCKING SUCKS. I'm not sure why, and I'm trying to resolve said problem, but I've now come to the conclusion that my laptop has now entered puberty. It's having very fucking annoying mood swings, and will connect one minute, then disconnect the next. So, you'll have to be patient with me as my laptop and I scream at eat other using telepathy, cuz' that's what I normally do when I'm upset with my computer. As I speak, it's giving a rather sad attempt at connecting now. D: So please don't think that I've forgotten about the story if my laptop won't connect for me for about a week, please?)
It was movie night. A night that rarely happened at Wammy's House. And it was a day that everyone, yes everyone, attended. All of Wammy's gifted children were snuggly gathered into the mini theatre that Roger helped to sponsor the building of (It was L's idea to build it.) and every single one of them was secretly bouncing with excitement. Even the two newly considered friends, sitting in row three. None of the orphans got a regular chance to watch even television, so this was like the chance of a lifetime. Near sat to Mello's right, nibbling cautiously at a chocolate bar that he had halved with him, cherishing every bite, as he rarely got a chance to eat sweets. (Mello and L always smuggled them away into their own special stash, or rather, in L's case, Wammy's office.) Tonight's movie was an American classic. A Disney and Pixar classic, rather. The film was entitled Finding Nemo. The title sounded boring to Mello, as well as it secretly did to Near, but, as mentioned earlier, rarely were the children able to attend a theatre, so the two lowered themselves in their seats as the movie progressed, resorting to daydreaming, or forcing their eyes to look at the screen.
Surprisingly enough, Mello found credits begin to crawl across the screen as the movie drew to a close. He heaved a sigh of relief. Finally. Roger's voice cracked above them on an intercom system.
"Alright children. I hope you enjoyed the movie tonight. It's now curfew, so once the credits are over, I'll be expecting you in your rooms, preparing for bed." Mello gave a nod of the head, ready to obey. As he made to stand and exit the theatre, however, he felt the tug of weight at his shoulder. As he looked to his right, he found a sleeping Near, leaned against his shoulder. He felt a wave of panic run him over. What if someone were to see him like this? What would he respond? Mello decided to wait until the credits were over, then make a beeline for his room.
The credits ended, and Mello took a quick look around the place to make sure there were no direct witnesses, and scooped Near up into a cradling embrace, and began to head for his room. But as he exited the door of the theatre, he came face to face with Matt. His face threatened to spill into a bright red. Matt simply gestured at the boy in Mello's arms.
"Why?" Mello gave the quickest thought he could muster, and almost snarled at him.
"Well, it's rude to try and get him to wake up like this, isn't it?" Matt shrugged, and let Mello by. Mello almost sprinted through the hallways with Near in his arms, careful not to make him stir, then found the door to their room. He stuck his tongue out to the side for concentration, and lifted his foot, half supporting the weight in his hands, (though the weight honestly wasn't that heavy) and half trying to reach and turn the door knob with his foot. It worked, to his surprise, and he lifted his foot awkwardly from the door before his legs spread even farther apart, and entered his room, shutting the door behind him by bumping it with his shoulder. He swiftly brought Near to his bed, and gingerly lowered him onto the mattress, as his arms began to weaken slightly. He examined the still slumbering boy with slight admiration. He had actually managed to keep him asleep. With that, Mello turned to undress, and get into his own bed.
BREAK. it.
Mello was awaked by a very odd sound. He tilted his head lightly to look at the digital clock on his side of the nightstand. 2:47a.m. . .
"Near," Mello called softly, as he noticed his roommate moving in the darkness. The moment his name was called, Near froze, and the noise that Mello had been hearing, that woke him up, stopped. Mello raised an eyebrow. He tried, for maybe three seconds, to make out what the noise was. It sounded, honestly, like moisturized ground beef being stirred in a bowl. It sounded slightly disturbing.
"Near, did you hear that noise?" Near didn't move a muscle, and for a split second, Mello considered repeating the question.
"What noise was it?" Near asked back, in a very weary-sounding voice. Mello gave a frown.
"Honestly, it sounded like the noise an open carcass makes when its predator chowing down on it." Near was silent once again.
"I didn't hear anything," he finally responded.
Near's acting strange, Mello thought. He sat up a bit more comfortably in his bed, and gave Near a look-over. What was wrong?
"Near, are you alright?" Mello asked, leaning toward the boy's bed to try and figure him out in the darkness.
"I'm fine," Near gave a half-hearted response back. Mello reached for his side-table lamp, and flipped the light on. Instantly, his memory brought him back to the morning Mello found him asleep in bed, blood blotched across his face, bandages, hair and pillow. The scene now was very similar, only Near refused to show his face. Mello inhaled, ready to scream L's name for help, but Near twisted his neck around and leaned forward toward Mello, his index finger, also blotched red, covering his lips, his eyes filled with plead. Mello gave a shaky exhale, and approached Near's bed.
"Why in the hell did this happen again?" he hissed, his own eyes filling with pure concern. Near seemed to hang his head at this question, and everything clicked into place inside Mello's head. Hi eyes widened. "That noise. . .You did it." Near didn't move. Mello could feel his patience with the boy wear thin. He grabbed Near by the collar, ceasing to care now whether or not that would be against his bet, and pulled Near's face forcedly in front of his.
"Why?" Mello demanded in a whisper. Near still hung his head, and Mello could sense a bit of sullenness in him.
"You're not the one who got his nose broken," was the only thing Near said. Mello released his grip on Near's collar, and the boy landed back on his mattress.
"If you're trying to make it worse, stop. Eventually, L will find out--"
"It isn't that," Near broke in, his voice full of lead. Finally, he raised his head, and his eyes were filled with fault and blame, all at the same time. "If you had a bandage like this attached to your nose, having to change it so often because of the oil in your facial skin, your nose would itch, would it not?" Mello took a moment to put himself in Near's shoes. It wasn't the greatest thing in the world, but he could understand Near's pain. He nodded, and Near lowered his head again. "It's wrong to irritate wounds that itch. I know it's wrong to so much as rub them. But it's become a habit, just like what I do to my hair." As was saying these words, Near's hand had lingered up to his stained white hair, and began to lace his index finger through the snowy and occasionally copper locks of hair.
"Wouldn't you think that after what happened last time, when you were rushed to the ER again, you'd stop?" Near raised his head in surprise. Mello felt like slapping the boy across the face at his expression.
"L never told me exactly what had happened. . .is that really what I did?" Mello furrowed his brows, but nodded. Near's expression changed from blame to shame. He leaned back against the mattress, and looked Mello in the eye. What Mello saw in these eyes, in spite of himself, made his own eyes water up. Perhaps his conscience was telling him to make Near feel sorry enough to never scratch at his wounds again, and perhaps it was just that the built up stress inside of him was leaking out, but he felt the tears force down his cheeks, and he immediately wiped them away, not wanting to make a wimp out of himself.
"Mello, I'm sorry. . ." Mello forced back fresh tears as he put on his regular expression, and offered Near his hand.
"That's okay. But come on. Let's get you into some water, and I'll give my best attempt at covering up this blood on your pillow." Near took his hand, and stood with him. They sneaked from their room, and headed for the washroom. "But you have to promise me something."
"What?"
"Don't ever scratch your nose again."
"Until I get my bandages off?" Mello gave a teasing pout.
"Oh, I guess."
(Note - I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter. It was kind of silly how I described Near's scratching, but he was digging into his nose, causing blood to flow. That can't be the prettiest noise you've ever heard. But anyway, I'll have updated next chapter as soon as the Judo part of the 2008 Olympics is over. I'm really stoked about watching that. :3)
