Ugh, this was supposed to be up last week, I'm sorry I'm a mess, not even a hot mess, I'm a lukewarm one at best. Anyways, here we are, chapter ten. My winter break is coming up next week so hopefully I'll get a few chapters in. I think my issue was that I got the idea for the KnB story and devoted my time to that. Also, I've been watching Miraculous Ladybug and Haikyuu, and also One Punch Man, i told you, I'm a mess.
If I could ask though, I'd like to know what you all think. I'm not expecting much since this is a re-upload, but it's been edited and I've changed a few things, it'd be a big help. Okay! Let's get on with it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note
Warning: Mentions of Bulimia
Matt woke Mello the next morning by dragging him out of bed and hitting him with a pillow, jumping back before the other boy could punch him or sweep his legs out from under him.
"What the hell," Mello grumbled, scrambling to his feet. He grabbed a pillow of his own and slung it into Matt's face.
"We start language training today, I figured I'd wake you up," Matt shrugged. He was already dressed, though he'd not bothered to brush his hair. His goggles held back his fringe, and Mello thought about getting him an actual headband one day.
"You should have woken me up sooner, today is the day I beat Near," he strode past Matt and into the bathroom to shower.
Matt let him pass, figuring that he was in a good mood, so maybe he could afford not to hound him for a day.
Or, at the very least, a morning.
By the time Mello deemed himself presentable, Matt had smoothed down his hair and affixed his goggles properly. As they walked down the halls, Matt cleared his throat.
"So," he began, not quite sure how to broach the subject without getting yelled at, "Today's a good day then?
Mello gave him a curious look before understanding dawned in his eyes.
"Call it what you will, Matt," he said offhandedly.
When it was time for class to start, Mello collapsed artfully into a seat, taking on the visage of a chilly ice queen, oozing cold and superiority. Matt thought the look suited him. Near sat a few seats a way, he was fidgeting, trying to get his foot up onto the chair without his knee digging into the edge of the desk. The image seemed to brighten Mello's day ever so slightly, never mind the fact that they would later be going to a hospital.
The language course wasn't for every child at Wammy's, there were only five of them present. Aside from Near, Mello and Matt, Linda sat in the back with her sketchbook opened beside her notes, and a boy named Henry sat beside her, his nose buried deep in a book. Wammy's had a top ten, within that, a top five, and of course, a top three.
As it was, they began with Spanish. Mello, already fluent, grinned and shot a glare in Near's direction.
The action was lost on the younger boy and he only nodded and turned back to trying to adjust his leg.
"Come on, Mells," Matt had his arms around the older boy's waist, attempting to pull him away from the front gate. Mello didn't want to go to the appointment, Matt had seen him fidgeting as the clock ticked closer and closer. He'd had to manhandle him from their room and through the halls. They'd made it past the gates but Mello had latched on to the bars and refused to let go of them.
"No, I'm not going," he declared.
Matt huffed, shifting his grip. Mello had been all right last night, even in the morning, but now that it was unavoidable, he'd regressed to immaturity and irrationality.
"You have to!"
"I don't have to do anything!"
Matt gave one final tug but Mello held tighter. Thoroughly put out by his friend's childish behavior and unwillingness to get better, Matt played the only card he could.
He dug his fingers into the soft area that had begun forming at Mello's sides and began to tickle him.
Mello, not expecting the surprise attack, gasped and his hands slipped from the gate. Matt managed to pull him off and over to the waiting car that would drive them to the hospital. As soon as the door shut, Mello punched Matt's arm and resolved to stare out the window.
Soon, they pulled up to the hospital doors and Mello stiffened when Matt unbuckled his seat belt.
"Mells, let's go," he said gently, holding out his hand to help Mello out of the car. He didn't take the proffered hand, but Matt saw the way he was beginning to wring his fingers as they moved closer to the building.
As the automatic doors hissed open, they were hit with the powerful scent of disinfectant.
Mello bit his lip, twisting his hands harder, his fingers screaming at him as he wrung them raw. He took a shaky breath, a poor attempt to calm his nerves. He didn't like hospitals, he never had. They were too sterile, too white, that bit reminded him of Near. But, his hatred of the sheep aside, he was ready to bolt. Mika hadn't much liked hospitals either, she'd spent about a month in a psyche ward before she feigned improved mental health and they let her go. He wouldn't forget the memory of Mika strapped onto a gurney.
He noticed he was still wringing his hands and quickly decided to hold on to Matt's, slipping their palms together instead of just grabbing his wrist like he normally would.
Mello felt a chill settle in his bones. It couldn't be air conditioning, he was wearing a long sleeved shirt, almost a sweater really. He figured it was most likely due to the fact that he'd neglected to eat breakfast and had spent almost all of his shower time vomiting up what little was left in his stomach from the night previous. If his stomach really was empty for as long as it had been, that would explain the chills. They'd happened before, not often though because he usually wore long sleeves and pants designed for colder weather. The fact that Matt was practically a human space heater was also helpful.
Roger was busy so one of the instructors was escorting them, no questions asked.
They sat in the waiting room and Mello quickly let go of Matt's hand, choosing instead to hug his stomach with one arm. He brought his other hand to his mouth and began to nervously chew on the sleeve. Matt pretended not to notice and tapped out a steady beat on the arm of his chair.
It seemed like an eternity until a nurse called Mello past a set of double doors. He latched onto Matt again and tugged him along. The nurse looked like she wanted to say something, most likely wanting tell Mello that Matt probably shouldn't be present. Their instructor leaned in a moment and whispered something into her ear, the nurse only nodded and led them to a room.
It appeared to be a standard room at first glance but Mello noted the lack of anything extra. There was really only the paper sheeted bed, two hard chairs, and a rolling chair for the doctor. Their instructor was still in the hallway, apparently not planning on coming in.
Matt watched in silence as the nurse took Mello's blood pressure and temperature, as well as his heart rate before having him step on a scale she'd brought with her. Mello screwed his eyes shut and refused to look at the numbers, but Matt saw him peek at the nurse's chart when she set it down.
If the look on his face was anything to go by, he wasn't happy with the results.
The nurse stepped out, taking the scale wit her, after saying that the doctor would be in momentarily. She didn't seem all that happy about leaving two children alone, but she didn't really have a choice.
"You okay?" Matt asked, taking stock of his slouched posture.
"Perfect," Mello ground out.
Matt knew that talking would do nothing, not now. Not when Mello was rigid, bracing himself like Atlas with the world on his shoulders. He was about to collapse. So he stayed quiet, pulling his DS from his pocket. He didn't turn it on though, only absently began pressing buttons, keeping an eye on Mello from behind his fringe and the orange tinted lenses of his goggles.
When the doctor came in, Matt put the DS away and pushed his goggles up to hold back his hair.
"Ah, the nurse told me you brought a friend with you."
The hospital card pinned to his shirt read Ian Masters. Matt gave the man a once over. He had laugh lines, and his eyes crinkled when he talked. A worn silver ring hung on a chain around his neck. Matt figured it wasn't his though, the ring was ancient and Masters was pretty young, besides, he already had a wedding band on his ring finger. He took a moment to search the man's eyes before deeming him all right.
Mello didn't even look up.
"I'm Matt," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. Master's obliged him, smiling.
"It's nice to meet you," he said before turning his attention to Mello, "So, that means you're Mello."
"Obviously," Matt noted the biting tone. Mello only used that when he was on the offensive. It was the tone he took with Sheridan during their bad sessions.
If the doctor noted it, which he probably did, he kept it to himself.
Dr. Masters began talking to Mello, asking him questions that Matt knew came straight from a print out. But he intermingled normal questions, instructions, explanations, all the while moving around Mello, sometimes in front of him, other times behind. It seemed to put the boy at ease because he just held still and answered stiffly. Matt doubted that Mello was fully processing the fact that Master's had taken a blood sample and checked his body for physical abnormalities. But he had to be aware to some extent, the answers he gave the doctor were not completely true or false, they were answers that could imply nearly anything but still didn't constitute as lies.
The ease in which the appointment had progressed shattered when Masters asked how Mello discovered bulimia.
Mello seized up and refused to say another word, hunching his shoulders further forward.
The doctor seemed to note the reaction and moved passed it, attempting to reconstruct the previous atmosphere. But it was lost as Mello assumed a sort of protective catatonia, eyes fixed on the floor, hands clenched around the edge of the bed.
As they left the hospital, Matt slipped his hand into Mello's, guiding him out to the parking lot. Mello only jerked his gaze to their hands, saying nothing and eventually turning his gaze forward. He seamlessly slipped into a slight swagger, throwing confidence and assurance into the air about him. He managed to take the lead, making sure that Matt was walking a half step behind him. Matt figured it was an ego boost after what happened with the doctor.
Who was he to deny Mello that?
When they made it back to Wammy's, Mello all but kicked into their door and strode into their dorm.
"I wanna beat something up," he declared as he began pacing.
Matt arched a brow.
"Like Near?"
"Exactly like Near," Mello settled for kicking the wall.
"If you do that, Roger won't be as lenient as he was last time."
"Roger can go to hell!"
Matt sat down on his bed, not quite willing to approach the raging fire that was wearing a hole in their floor. If he did, Mello would probably bite him or, most likely, punch him. Matt bruised easily, so both of those outcomes were unwanted.
A knock at the door made them jump, filling their heads with suspicion. They both had an idea about what would happen next.
Matt got up to answer, noting how Mello was glaring at the door like it had directly offended him. He nearly choked on his own spit when he saw Mr. Wammy standing there.
"Is L back then?" he asked, taking off his goggles, leaving them to hang around his neck.
"Yes, he wishes to speak to the both of you."
Mr. Wammy's voice was gentle, if Matt had a grandfather he would say that Mr. Wammy sounded like one. The man had a gentle expression, exuding comfort.
Matt cast a look to Mello.
He didn't like what he saw.