Title: New Breed: DOG BYTE
Summary: Sometimes, love is displayed by moral execution. Brutality becomes a mask; the goggles are merely a security factor to strengthen his resolve. [GORE-PRONE MATT-CENTRIC!]
Disclaimer: I don't own DN or anything referenced.
Author's Note: After the last chapter, I wanted to write something lighter.
...
"Beyond, this is Matt -though I like to call him Dog Bite. Dog Bite, my deranged friend here is Beyond Birthday, but you can call him pretty much any obscenity you'd like."
"Call me B," Beyond corrected.
"Bitch!" Mello hooted, amused.
The redhead showed no interest in talking, instead keeping silent, gaze distant and heart heavy. Under his breath, he gave the occasional whimper or recital of cautionary words that could be found on most industrial cleaners.
Growing bored, Beyond had waved a hand in dismissal and announced that he was going to make a food-run and would be back at the Kennel later.
...
The Kennel.
A warehouse with boarded windows and a rundown exterior, dumpsters out front overflowing with trash and a sidewalk lined with worn motorbikes and parts and stray tools.
Giving no explanation, Mello held the redhead's hand and led him to a back entrance. The door was unlocked and opened with a loud screech.
Once inside, colorful flashing lights illuminated most dark corners, lights from large bulky arcade games that lined the walls. One overhead naked bulb was in the center of the ceiling, the bulb fairly dim and unimposing as it illuminated Foosball, air hockey, and pool tables.
This was merely the first of several segmented areas, each branching off and serving its own purpose.
"Welcome to Kennel Corp," Mello said with exaggerated gusto.
The entry room filled with games was filled with a dozen or so people, male and female, children, teen, and young adult. A few spared glances towards Mello and Matt, but no one commented or gave any sign of cognition as they simply turned back to whatever activity that had previously held their attention.
Matt didn't even bother to look around, his own eyes vacant, his hand still within Mello's grasp.
Noticing the redhead's lack of awareness, Mello sighed. "I should... show you to the bathroom," he said, tone disheartened. "Unless you want a tour... or something," he added lamely.
Matt looked at Mello and blinked once, twice, three times. The fog that had settled over his eyes seemed to clear and his head whipped about on his neck so fast that Mello almost worried he'd give himself whiplash. Matt's lips parted and he breathed deeply. "Wh-What's going on?" He slurped at built-up drool; then he pulled his hand from the blonde's grasp and brought it to his own mouth, slipping his fingers passed his lips and wiggling his denture partial, carefully jarring it loose and pulling it from his palate. Then he slipped it safely into the pouch attached to his belt.
Mello watched Matt curiously. "So... you have normal teeth after all," he stated obviously, mostly to chaff the silence that had started to build after the redhead's question went unanswered.
Said question was asked again and an additional one followed. "What's going on? Where am I?"
Mello's lips formed a tight line before he resigned to answer. "You... helped me fight a gang called Fever Pitch. I brought you back here to clean up. So you wouldn't have to go home covered in... blood." His usually confident demeanor seemed to escape, leaving him almost nervous in the presence of the other. "Remember? You... had a bit of a meltdown."
Matt nodded and looked around, trying to take in all of his surroundings.
"Should I show you to the bathroom, or...?" Mello trailed off, unsure.
The redhead shrugged, then lowered his head and sighed out the words: "I'm just... tired, I think. So tired. Miss my mom."
Nodding in understanding, Mello, reclaimed Matt's hand and guided him through a doorway, down a hallway and into another room. This room was smaller than the game-room. It was mostly empty, save for a large pile of blankets and pillows strewn about the floor haphazardly.
"You can rest if you want," Mello said, letting go of the redhead's hand and moving to sit amidst the pile.
Cautiously, Matt followed the blonde's lead, stepping further into the room and slowly settling onto the floor next to him. "So," he said after a moment of silence. "What is this place?"
Mello looked around and shrugged. "The Kennel. And this room's the bedroom."
Matt frowned, brows knitting together in confusion. "Hn?" He looked about. The room was cold and empty. Just a big cement box with a hard floor covered in quilts and comforters and sheets and various pillows.
"Bedroom," Mello repeated. "It's not much," he confessed, voice lowering an octave. "But it's home." A small gentle smile graced his features. "We all live here. We eat, sleep, and play here. At Kennel Corp, we're all family." He paused, his smile faded and was replaced by a hybrid of serious and solemn. "No, Kennel Corp is better than family."
Matt squinted his eyes, frowning, trying to wrap his mind over what the blonde was saying. "I'm... lost," he admitted quietly.
Avoiding eye contact, Mello shifted uncomfortably before taking a breath and deciding to elaborate. "They -outsiders, other gangs, cops, stupid people- they call us Mutts." His teeth clenched and his expression turned sour. "Strays," he amended with a sharp nod. "We all had homes once. Moms and dads. We had it... Then we didn't. One day, we just had nothing."
Matt frowned and placed a hesitant hand over one of the blonde's, attempting to offer comfort.
At this encouragement, Mello continued. "My mom was... a cop. She kept the city safe, always carrying a gun and going on patrol. Dad wasn't -ugh- Dad's profession wasn't so legal, but it wasn't bad. He just... sold stuff. And things... got... out of hand. A stupid drug lord in the neighborhood didn't' like competition. He found and shot my dad. At my home. Right in front of me. Mom was just coming home from work, wearing her uniform. That... douchebag... shot my mom too. I couldn't do anything. I didn't know what to do. I called the cops as soon as I could... And, yeah, they came, but they didn't do anything. Paid off by the drug lord, they tried to cover up the murders altogether. I was sent away, to a foster home. It wasn't a good home. I ran away, came back here, and met Beyond. Beyond introduced me to Kennel Corp. Basically, we live together and fight the bad guys. It's not great, but it's more than I could ever ask for. It's home. It's stable. It's family that has my back and wants to do good things."
When Mello finished his tale, he felt drained and finally realized just how tired he himself was; his eyes were wet and his heart felt lighter; it was as if a weight had been lifted. He glanced at the redhead, mainly to gauge his reaction.
The redhead had managed to lean against Mello during the bout of auto-narration, and his eyes had slipped shut; the Katar dagger was slack and barely gripped between his fingers.
With a small smile, Mello noted that Matt had fallen asleep. Not bothering to second guess himself, he decided to let the redhead sleep. A small part of him considered that the redhead's mom might worry, but a bigger part of him was glad for the company. "Rest up, Dog Bite," Mello said softly, taking the dagger and setting it aside. He wrapped his arms around Matt and carefully coaxed the redhead and himself to lay among the blankets. Arms around Matt, he pressed his face between Matt's shoulder and neck and let his own eyes slip closed, unperturbed by the tangy scent of copper and musk.
No, Mello wasn't supposed to bring outsiders into the Kennel, but as far as he was concerned, Dog Bite was just as much of a stray as anyone else he could call family. And if there were consequences to his actions, he'd face them later. For now, sleep was tugging at his consciousness, lulling him into a peaceful slumber. And he was all too happy to oblige.
...
Short chapter is short, but I wanted to do something simple here.