Oh, I kinda sorta had this one finished for quite some time. I never got around to posting it I guess! I'm super sorry for late updates, but I'm sorta reaching that time in every fic's life where SOMETHING is gonna happen. I have to be concernicus with the (T) rating...

Chapter 13: Hatching Snakes

"Where were you this morning?"

Mello sat in the chair to my side, chewing neatly on another bar of chocolate. The question had turned up more than once this morning, and its frequency was increasing. I appreciate the concern, if that really is what happens to be motivating him, but I would rather put it all behind myself. Never bring it up again. What happened was a mistake. Not to happen again. I'm sure.

I stared into my lap, watching my fingers. They were just laying there. Like little broken people, inanimate and lifeless. I stretched them open and allowed them to relax back into their crippled positions.

Mello tooka knee in front of my chair, tilting his head as if to get a better view. My eyes slid towards the bookcase. I wonder if there are any books there I haven't read. I've read a good deal of them...

"You'd left early. Anything wrong?"

Did I skip any of them? I'm nearly positive that I have read each volume in proper succession...

"Near."

It's not as if reading them all would be impossible. The selection is small and nothing in comparison to the library...

"Near, did something happen?" Mello took hold of my face to catch the attention I was trying to deprive him. I pulled away, pinning my chin to my chest. I know I was acting like a child, and my lower lip pouted in disapproval of my own actions. If I wasn't careful, I might come off as...I don't know the proper word. I don't want him to think I am avoiding him or that I don't like him. It's only that...I have to figure out some things for myself.

"It is nothing to be concerned about. Your trepidations are for naught—"

Mello scowled. "I have every reason to be concerned. You're kind of my..."

"Because, I am your...?"

"Labels aren't important." Mello sat down cross-legged. He said nothing else, chewing idly while his eyes stalked mine. The attention was unusual and plentiful since he had found me on the way to breakfast. He was just watching. I imagine this feeling inhabiting me is something parallel to a creature in a zoo.

"Is there something fascinating about my face? It's not as if I don't realize your sudden interest."

Mello took another chocolatey bite, shaking his head in disagreement...or maybe only shaking his bangs out of his sight. Every movement he makes seems to be laden with cryptic meaning. It's unnerving—and he continues to watch.

"What?" I rubbed the back of my hand over my face. I presented it to him again, "Is it still there?"

Mello nodded.

I made another sweep over my face. "Better?"

His head shook again.

"What's wrong then?"

Mello didn't answer, nibbling on his chocolate, back to his stare.

"I am going to leave."

Mello shook his head.

"Why not?"

Another shake.

"Yes, I will. You have nothing to say, and you're staring is making me feel—feel... uncomfortable."

I dangled a leg down towards the floor. Mello caught hold before I was able to reach, and at the touch, my feet recoiled. I perched further back into my chair, questioning his obscure actions. He was acting strange. Not at all like he used to be. Never has he watched me so openly. Never has he touched me so casually. These actions were proving to be fuel to some sort of humming my whole body was doing. It was sort of ticklish. I think I like it though...

Mello went back to chewing, eyes never swaying. I can't stand this distraction. I can't think at all. Well—I can. Though, those thoughts are all limited towards Mello. How ridiculous. I know it, yet I don't care so much. I like the attention to an extent. I never was able to interact with Mello regularly, so that much is a new and pleasant experience. The issue is, there are things that come with this relationship that I cannot bare to think about in front of him. Where can I go? Somewhere I can be alone. If I am able get away at all...

"Mello-" I received an expectant look and froze. I had the intention to lie, but that was proving difficult. I didn't like it. I didn't want to lie. It made me feel...bad. I hugged my knees, shaking my head. "Never mind..."

The two of us sat in silence, watching each other. My guts were growing rotten from all the churning it was doing. I really could not explain the foreign feelings plaguing my body. Kids giggled, running past the doorway.

"Wait for me, guys!"

"Roger is coming! Run away!"

"Run away~!"

"Wait, I wanna come too!"

Mello's head snapped towards the hallway. He wasn't doing anything wrong, though perhaps it is a conditioned response. He rocked to his feet, sticking a head out the door. He looked back.

"I'm gonna take a short walk. I'll be back."

Mello slipped out, and I could not help but appreciate the timing. I escaped the room, heading in the opposite direction. There weren't going to be any comfortable places to hide. Not with Matt, nor Creole, and most definitely not in my own room. Not the common room. Not the library. The floors shook with the rumbling steps of children running through the halls. Spontaneity would be in my favor today, making my location more difficult to find if he chooses to search for me. It was best to walk until reaching a dead end.

"Have you seen Dhonner?"

I looked up, my gaze having been trained to the floor, to another resident of Wammys. A younger girl with plump cheeks and a choppy bob had stopped before me. I didn't know her name. I don't know how she knew me. I can't say I recognize her face, and I do not know anyone by the alias "Dhonner".

"I am sorry, I don't know who that is—I cannot help you."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Well, he is kinda older..and his hair is yellowish. He has a really loud yell..." I watched as the girl struggled for the proper adjectives. "He is wearing a red shirt with an owl on it...and he is playing with the other boys."

"I apologize. I do not know the boy you are looking for."

"Are you sure? You didn't pass by him at all? He was running in this direction..."

No. I hadn't been doing it consciously, but I was avoiding contact with others. I still couldn't manage to walk through these halls without watching every step I took. I ignored everything outside of myself...Is there any way for me overcome this crippling defiance towards interaction? I shook my head a final time. "I'm sorry. I wish you luck finding him though."

The girl whose name I didn't know gave a small smile. "That's okay. Thanks anyway."

The chubby girl ran off, nothing left to say. I was tempted to contemplate my reaction to confrontation...I didn't have time. Every moment I wasn't hiding was another moment I might be discovered. First, I have things I need to think through.

In the end, my journey lead me to the laundry room. I didn't care to turn the lights on. Padding on bare feet, I aimed for the corner. Under the window. Between a hamper and a dryer. The little amount of light that streaked in illuminated particles that would swirl around with each breath I made. I curled up to watch them silently.

It feels nearly impossible to self-analyze nowadays. It isn't that I don't have the ability—it's that, that ability comes at a price. Complete honesty. That is more difficult while I am wanting to lie to myself. The feelings are ticklish though, and I don't want to share because I feel like I'd much rather do anything other than let someone else know that I'm like this. Feelings like, confusion and shame. Uncomfortable self-consciousness. It was easiest to try and forget it all for a moment... A fly buzzed in a circle around the floor. It was stuck on its back, helpless to anything that came upon it. I put a foot out, trying to squash the noise. Suddenly, it was upright again and flew out of reach. I leaned a head against the dryer, dissecting the smell of fabric softener from detergent. One was floral...the other, more of a powder. A hiss as a rinse cycle ended and a hum as a spinning cycle began. It was a nice temperature in here. Not too hot. Not too cold. I closed my eyes, listening to the washing mantra. It was numbing, and soon that's all I could concentrate on.

"Near?"

My eyes snapped open, automatically spotting Matt with an armload of clothes. The situation was as if walking into a bedroom to find a frog on the floor. At first he thinks, there's a frog on the floor. Confusion sets in as he asks, why is a frog on the floor? Then he questions his sanity, is the frog real? Making the proper observations he finds; yes, it is real. This is that exact situation played out in real life, never mind the detail about the frog. The parallel is, that Matt matched that confusion that would be over the hypothetical misplaced amphibian.

"Yes?"

Matt shifted his grip on the clothes. "What...are you doing over there?"

"Falling asleep. Or waking up. I'm not sure anymore."

"Oh." Matt walked over to the line of washers, flipping up the lid using a free pinky, and dumping in his armload. The lid slammed back down, as he simultaneously cranked the timer. A hiss of water started, and then silence occupied once again. Matt turned around, looking back as if to make sure I was still there. It was funny how bare he looked right now. A white t-shirt and grey shorts. A lot of skin that I normally didn't see. His typical eye-wear was missing too. A very plain looking Matt. He walked over, bare-footed, and crouched in front of me.

"You look tired."

"Do I?"

He confirmed with a nod.

"I see. Then I should try and get some rest..." But, what if I have another one of those dreams? The thought was enough to make me want to curl up and renounce a life of slumber. I wasn't going to be able to return the garments given to me. They did not wash well. Although, I can't say whether it was the silk or the stain that I failed in treating. Neither seemed to turn out well. I had shamefully thrown them out once I discovered my failure.

"Something keeping you up at night?" Matt continued, I suppose, turning this into a conversation.

"I wish. I don't want to sleep anymore. Resent results prove that never sleeping would be an easier solution to my problems."

Matt fell back to sit on his rear, crossing his legs and leaning to rest his head in his hands.

"What problems?"

"Sleeping problems. Could you not conclude that by my resistance to sleep?"

"Well, yeah," Matt smiled, scratching his head. "I meant, what kind of sleeping problems? It's obviously not that you can't sleep. See? I can make connections."

Yes, he could. I knew that well enough. It is only that I am trying with high degree to avoid what might become of this conversation. Considering that I care, and I would at least label him as a warm colleague—I don't want him to think less of me. Along with the emotions being thrust upon me, I also have a growing sense of vulnerability. Nothing has changed. If I had been in the same situation with my past self, I would have thought nothing of what anyone thought. I can understand the silliness in trying to hide this, yet I can't resist hiding it besides the point.

"Near?"

"Dreams."

"Dreams? You mean, nightmares?"

I shook my head, "No. The dream itself was not frightening. The issue lies in its...growing intensity."

Matt waited, apparently for more of an explanation. I continued, "It's a situation that I've never experienced. I cannot control my very own body. I am an infant in matters such as this—I do not know what sort of practice I should take up to prevent...whatever might happen."

Matt raised his eyebrows and in an awed voice asked, "Whatever might happen then?"

He grinned suddenly, bringing contradiction to his query. Matt had not been in serious awe. He grinned some more, tilting his head. I didn't understand where his enjoyment stemmed from. Was he mocking me? That hardly seems appropriate when it is he who branded our 'friendship'.

"What is so entertaining? My troubles?"

Matt raised his hands in a passive gesture, "Don't get angry, Near. I was teasing you a bit, but I didn't mean to be mean. It's just that it's kind of funny seeing you act so uneasy."

"Why is that funny?"

"It's just weird. That's all. Funny weird."

"Is that even a thing?"

"Very much so. So. While you were tying your best to be vague, I can only imagine your problem. I told you, I'm your friend. Talk to me about any of your problems, and I'll listen with a helpful ear. It's not as if I have anything to do right now anyways," he nodded towards the washer. "I've taken a personal day."

He wasn't going to leave. Ugh, I'm exhausted from this already.

"My suspicion is that I...was victim to nocturnal emission."

"A wet—?"

"Yes, yes. We both don't need a clarification via colloquialisms. You understand perfectly well."

Matt nodded seriously for a moment, then suddenly whipped himself to face the opposite direction. He held his hands to his face, body shaking.

"Are you laughing at me?"

He shook his head, though the incriminating shaking did not cease.

"Yes, you are..."

Matt shook his head again, refusing to admit to the obvious laughter.

"I am not stupid, and this is not funny. Matt—"

His head leaned back as he released, gasping for air. The laughter was undeniably clear.

"I'm sorry!" He rolled back around, face pink with either mirth or from holding his breath for so long. "It's funny. How can you not think this is funny?"

"I'm regretting my choice to confide in you. I am hyper-sensitive to my own feelings nowadays...and I am able to feel offended."

"I've noticed." Matt rubbed his face viciously, as if he could rub away the smile plastered there.

"Have you had enough already?"

"Yeah, my face is cramping..."

I grimly awaited his recovery. I had been cautious to tell him, but I never expected this. I shouldn't have told him at all.

"It's just..." Matt strained to speak once again. "It's just that I never expected this. This is such a strangely normal problem. Not 'Am I human?', or 'I can't feel.' You're really going through a lot right now, aren't you?"

"Yes." And I don't know what to do about it, "What do I do?"

Matt returned to his cross-legged position, raising his eyebrows. "What do you do?"

"How do I prevent it?"

"..."

"Do you know?"

Matt gave a shrug. "What can I say? Shit happens."

"What?"

"I mean...what can you do? Nothing. It's a thing of life."

"Nothing?"

"Unless you believe in crushing the serpent's eggs before they're hatched."

"..."

"Like...getting the job done yourself," he paused for a moment. "Well, I guess unless you've got the special sort of relationship with someone else. Then you don't have to be by yourself, per se."

He was so boldly suggesting that I— "I've never done..."

"I expected as much," Matt said, swiftly standing straight. "I can't help you with that one either. That's best left for you to discover yourself."

"Are you leaving?"

"Nah. Just checking on the unmentionables," Matt opened the lid, shaking his head. "I knew it, but I can't help but check anyway."

He returned to sit in front of me again. Was he still planning on having this conversation? That look in his eyes said yes. That kind of glitter that spoke of curiosity.

"So."

There he goes.

"Who or what were you dreaming about?"

"Why?"

"It's my disgusting and intrusive brain. It really wants to know."

I briefly revisited the situation. An immediate flush as the idea bloomed fantastically. No. No. No. I need to shut down these thoughts right now. "I can't talk about it."

Matt raised his hands passively once again, "Alright. Just asking."

"You haven't seen Mello, have you?"

"Was it him?"

Ah...

"That guy is damned luckiest guy on earth...it is un-fucking-believable," Matt ranted, eyes widening as if his discovery were the most rare and priceless thing imaginable. "I could tell he... but, I never thought it'd happen! No one ever could have seen this! Of all the people— it makes no sense!"

Matt leapt up again, continuing his outburst, "I had been worried about him, ya'know? Like, I was seriously worried that he might snap and just outright start murdering people. Don't ever tell him I said that—but it's true. He was becoming obsessed, and I thought he might try to hurt you. That's kinda my reasoning for checking up on you. I didn't want him to become that guy. But, I see it now— It's mutual?"

Ah...

Matt settled down. "Sorry. I'm definitely not like this, usually. Not when it comes to people. But, I really am relieved is all. That you both can get along."

His hand reached down, as if to pull me to my feet. I allowed it and stood upright. Matt had a hand on my shoulder and a slight smile. "I hope that you'll understand how much he's grown to care about you."

Not until now had I questioned it. How? When did he ever get the chance to develop feelings? Our past together had been nothing but conflict. Mello had said it himself, he had hated me. Yet also...cared for a great deal of time? Which was it?

"Have you seen Mello?"

"No. I haven't."

I know he said he hates having to tell me these things. But, I need to know. What is it? His feelings...my feelings. We both should know. What if I get distracted though? I had left him—what if he's angry? Where is he? Back to his own room already? I left, forgetting the traditional goodbye—I don't think Matt minded too much though.

Happy day! This fic is totally on the way into the station. Not much rail left. I hope you're all liking it! And thank ya for supporting and sticking around!