Special reader request for PurpleWonderPower! Sorry this took so freaking long, I stepped away to a different fandom for a while. But I finally sat down and finished this! Hope you like it. :)
Dolphins, they had to be learning about dolphins, Melvin frowned to himself bitterly as he tapped a pencil on his desk and struggled through Ms Ribble's droning voice about sea creatures as she unenthusiastically intoned that dolphins were in fact mammals. Which, of course, he already knew but for once the simplicity of the class wasn't what was making him upset. His breath caught as the teacher pulled up an image, the words she was saying fading into obscurity.
It looked so much like him. It didn't help that he had already been having a bad day, seeing a reminder of his once friend overwhelmed him and he could feel his eyes starting to burn.
Not here! He yelled at himself, pretending to knead his brow annoyedly in an attempt to cover up how he wiped rapidly growing tears away from his eyes. Not now when all the simpletons could see you! He did not want any one of his poor excuses for classmates to see him getting upset. They had enough to use against him without having to throw "crybaby" into the mix.
So, in a rare moment, he grabbed a piece of paper and went to work sketching, working hard to actually tune out the teacher's voice. It was just another twenty minutes until lunch, then he could slip away unnoticed.
"Now, could anyone tell me what family dolphins are in?" asked Ms Ribble, not really expecting a response and not really caring, though her eyes did move over to the gifted redhead in front out of habit.
The class was silent, except for the odd cough.
From their seats in the back, George and Harold also observed Melvin's non-answering puzzedly (and also disappointedly. If he wasn't carrying the class that meant the rest of them now actually had to try). They shared a confused look with each other, and Harold shrugged. Ms Ribble was looking rapidly more annoyed at the lack of answer (and respect), so George took initiative, suggesting with a grin, "The Dolphinson family?"
Ms Ribble was predictably unamused at this remark. Melvin was uncharacteristically silent about it, not even looking up from his desk.
"No," replied the teacher, deadpan, and George shrugged aloofly. Well, he had given it a shot.
Class carried on, Melvin continuing to be oddly detached from the lecture. It was kind of hard not to notice, considering he was usually the only one actually listening, and usually made a point of being as obnoxiously center-stage as possible whenever there was an opportunity to impart some knowledge on his ignorant classmates. Frankly, it was starting to weird Harold out how not-weird he was being. Their class had a certain structure, after all. Melvin would suck up to the teacher, George and Harold would throw in some much-needed distraction to shake things up a little and Erica would be an actual student and keep the room from falling apart. It was how it worked but Melvin wasn't playing his usual part.
The blond remarked as much to his friend when they finally got dismissed for lunch. "What was that all about?" he wondered aloud, tugging at his backpack straps and thinking.
George shrugged, remarking, "Maybe Melvin's sick or something,"
Harold thought on that, agreeing, "Yeah, maybe,"
They walked towards the cafeteria, pausing of course to rearrange the lunch billboard. While giggling at their latest triumph in word play, Harold caught sight of Melvin walked down a hall that led to the science labs. He was about to write it off (Melvin was usually in the labs during lunch), until he saw that it looked like he was crying. Shaking George's shoulder, he exclaimed worriedly, "George, did you see that?"
He looked up from where he had been taking in their latest funny phrase, answering, "No, what?"
"It was Melvin," he said, chewing his lip and suddenly wondering why he was even bringing this up. Since when did he care, anyway?
George must have felt the same way, because he raised a brow and remarked, "Yeah, so?
"He looked upset," added Harold, finding it difficult to say that it looked like their once-nemesis was crying.
"Melvin is always upset. Dude needs some anger management," replied George matter-of-factly, shaking his head sagely.
"I think I'm going to check on him," the blond found himself saying. He couldn't help it, he hated seeing people sad. That's why he made comics and tried so hard to make people laugh. Being sad sucked and he didn't want to see anyone that way. Even annoying teacher's pets like Melvin.
George looked at him like he was crazy. But Harold didn't take it back or say "just kidding". Brow raised, he said to his friend, "You have fun with that. I'm gonna go eat lunch."
Disappointed he'd have to go alone, but understanding why his best friend didn't want to come along, Harold nodded and turned to follow where Melvin had went, giving George a wave as he headed towards the cafeteria.
When he walked into the room, Melvin's eyes were teared up (not quite crying but getting close).
"Hey," asked Harold softly, not wanting to barge in but at the sight of their new somewhat friend crying getting actually worried instead of vaguely concerned, "You okay?"
Melvin, despite Harold's efforts at subtlety, jumped slightly in his seat at the unexpected voice, and turned to stare at Harold. He was conflicted and confused at Harold's presence. Years of engrained dislike from their nemesis status made him want to just yell at Harold, and get him away from him. But the last few months, ever since that Halloween night George and Harold had actually been nice to him, treated him almost like they treated the other classmates, and considering he was thinking about his lost best friend part of him really wanted a friend right now. Usually there wasn't a friend there for him to actually act on that feeling, and he just had to make due with his inventions or pets (or Doopity, he couldn't help but sadly add), but this time there was a human actually there actually actively wondering if he was okay. He had never had that happen before, and he didn't know what to say.
Evidently his lack of speech said something after all, because Harold got a pensive frown and moved to sit next to him. Melvin panicked at his close presence, and fumbled with his pencil to fiercely concentrate on his blueprints instead, doing his best to ignore Harold completely. Inventions were easier to deal with than people, always had been. After a beat of silence, just when Melvin was starting to relax again thanks to the familiarity of designing, Harold spoke up,
"Hey is that a dolphin? Man, I love dolphins!" leaning forward more, Harold looked at the blueprint spread out on the table while Melvin anxiously watched, wondering what game Harold was playing. "Hey wow, that's actually a pretty good drawing. I can never get the tail right." Harold moved from looking at the paper to looking at Melvin, now wearing his own puzzled expression, "I didn't know you liked to draw."
"It's a blueprint, actually," Melvin corrected, trying to keep any confusion or emotions out of his voice, "Just a scratch design for an invention I'm thinking of building."
Harold still looked confused, possibly more so than before, and asked, "An invention? But that's, like, nerd stuff. This looks actually fun and creative." The addition of and you're Melvin so you don't like those kinds of things was unspoken but not unheard.
Sighing, but secretly grateful for the distraction from his hurtful memories, Melvin gave Harold his "you're an idiot" deadpan glare, and replied, "I do have to create my inventions, you do realize that? They don't just appear out of thin air."
"They don't?" asked Harold in surprise and Melvin honestly couldn't tell if he was joking or not. But it was Harold so it was best to assume that he actually did think that his inventions just materialized from the ether.
"Of course they don't!" he snapped, finally turning away from the half-finished blueprint to face Harold, "I have to think of them, I have to design them," he gestured to the plans on the table, "and I have to construct and test them."
"I never really thought about it," admitted Harold, and he regarded Melvin with a new kind of familiarity. "So every one of those crazy-looking weird inventions, you, like, made those up. You."
"I believe I just said that," stated Melvin, not sure why Harold needed so much clarification on this point, or what he had realized to make him look like he actually had something in common with him.
Harold, grinning happily now, said, "That's actually pretty cool."
"Huh?"
Pointing to the blueprint, Harold asked, "So what's this one gonna be?"
Melvin fidgeted uncomfortably, playing with the pencil in his hand, answering tartly, "Nothing special."
It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Harold looked suspicious now (he didn't forget that he had found Melvin crying when he first walked into the room), "You never miss an opportunity to over-explain your inventions. And now I'm actually interested in it and you say 'nothing special'? What's wrong, Melvin?"
Melvin quickly went through possible options on how to reply. He could snap at him again, and get Harold to stop being so unusually nice, which would be easier and more comfortable but would gain him very little, it might even make Harold stop being so nice which he didn't necessarily want. He could say nothing, and hope that Harold simply drops the subject, which would be easy but might maintain their fragile friendship. Or, in the most difficult option, he could answer honestly and tell Harold what was wrong. He could think of very few things that sounded more uncomfortable to do, but at the same time maybe Harold would be able to help somehow. That part of him, that lonely part that had always had to do the best with inanimate objects and animals before, still wanted that friend very much. He had never had the liberty to take that option before (and pessimistically he considered that he probably wouldn't have this opportunity again), so just this once he would tell a friend how he felt.
"Class today reminded me of someone I cared very much for but I lost," he hesitantly acquiesced.
"The class about dolphins?" asked Harold, not expecting Melvin to actually answer and confused by what he meant.
"Doopity was a dolphin experiment who was also my best friend. I..didn't have anyone else to talk to," he admitted, embarrassed, "so every day when I came home from school I would talk to him," His voice wavered slightly, the tears that had been building and that he had constantly been ignoring springing back up, "Then, one day, I got home, and he was gone," Voicing turning bitter against his will, he added, "My father said that Doopity had been a failed experiment, and so he released him back into the wild while I was in class. I never saw him again." Sniffling, still trying to fight his tears, he explained, "Hearing about dolphins in class today, seeing all of those pictures, it reminded me of him. I feel like I never had a friend again after I lost him".
At his admission, for the first time Harold felt like he actually understood Melvin. Oh, he'd been trying to be nicer to him, but that didn't mean that he really got him at all. But now, he finally saw Melvin not as a genius nemesis who hated fun and was mad at everything, but just like a kid like any of the other kids. Somehow it had just never occurred to him before that Melvin could enjoy creating something, or that he had his own problems, or that he could use his hobbies to escape things that hurt him. Melvin sitting alone in the lab designing an invention had always looked like standoffish superiority, but now Harold realized that Melvin was probably just upset, and was making inventions to try and feel better. Just like how he had always made comics when he felt bad. That gave Harold an idea.
Pulling his ever at the ready stacks of blank paper out of his backpack , Harold declared, "Let's make a comic".
"Us? What? Huh?" sputtered Melvin, having no clue how his tragic story about his lost friend could possibly mean "comic".
"We can make a comic about Doopity. Make sure that people remember him. I want to help you, as your friend. And, I can't build or design inventions, but I can draw. If you want."
"I'm really not sure. I'm not really an artist, and the creative storytelling has always been George's role, not mine."
"You so are an artist. I mean look at that! And your comic back from summer camp was good! You can do it, if you want to."
"Melvin. Me and George always thought you were boring and didn't have any imagination, and we definitely didn't think you were creative, I mean, we always thought you hated anything fun-"
"This is supposed to make me feel better?" he inputted cynically, not seeing where the other boy was going with this.
"But we were kinda wrong," Harold continued, moving past Melvin's sarcastic remark, " You can actually be really creative, I mean look at all of the stuff you've built. Some of it is just as creative as anything me or George could come up with. So don't say you're not creative enough to make a comic. You totally can."
"So what do you say?" he offered again, " Let's make sure that Doopity is remembered," he passed Melvin a sheet of paper, and got out a box of crayons, looking to Melvin for an ok to start.
Harold calling him "creative" was just about the highest praise Melvin knew he could receive from him. Even if a collaborative comic hadn't worked out so well before, maybe this time it would.
"Okay," he decided, picking up his pencil once again, and switching from the blueprints to the printer paper. Setting lead to paper, he started to write the story, but realized something and turned to Harold before he truly started, "But just this one alright? I don't want everyone else in the school to know about Doopity. Or that I made a comic".
"Sure, Melvin. Just this one, just for you to have to remember him by".
So the two began, Melvin writing (with some suggestions from Harold), and Harold drawing with the odd pointer from Melvin about what Doopity was like or general design and anatomy. They were well into the middle of the story by the time lunch ended, and they both looked up in mild surprise when they heard the harsh tone of the bell.
Grabbing his supplies from off the table, Harold said as he prepared to go back to class, "This looks like it'll be a pretty good comic! Too bad we didn't get to finish it, though."
Melvin shrugged and started to leave, not thinking too hard about the comic or how involved he had been while making it, but Harold, getting an idea, jogged after him and fell into step beside him as they both walked down the hall.
"Hey," he suggested, still holding the half-finished comic, "I have an idea! Why don't you come by the Treehouse later and we can finish it?"
"Um, sure?" Melvin stammered in reply, honestly not expecting the offer. It's because he wants to finish the comic, he told himself even while part of him hoped otherwise.
"Cool! You can hang onto this in the meantime," said Harold, practically shoving the unfinished comic into his hands. Leaving the room he offered Melvin a wave, saying, "See you after school, Melvinhaler!"
Melvin haltingly waved back, watching as the other boy left. When he was alone in the lab, he read over the comic's title with a small smile.
"Melvinhaler vs the Abominable Alien Anglers, With his Sidekick Doopity" was written in Harold's messy handwriting, though the spelling was actually right for once thanks to his guidance. Underneath that, in his own handwriting (which was marginally better than Harold's thank you very much) was written, "In memoriam of a very special friend".
Kinda missed writing Melvin, so it was nice to get this finally finished up. Hope you liked it. R&R, etc. :)