Chapter Two: Sorry, But Your Princess is in Another Castle
Not sure how I feel about this chapter; I wrote it in less of a furor than when I wrote the first one, and I feel like I may be progressing the relationship too quickly. However, I'm happy with my Mello persona, and for that reason alone I'm publishing this chapter. Enjoy!
They told me it had been a freak accident. The car's brakes went out as they approached an intersection, and was t-boned by another car on the driver's side, sending the car flying. It flipped several times over and over before the door opened, with Misa sent hurdling the other direction. She hit the ground and lie near death, her face torn apart and the skin stripped from her body. By the time the ambulances arrived she was already dead, due to major hemorrhaging and trauma.
So there we were, Mello and I, at the table eating breakfast. Mello happily chomped down on Lucky Charms, myself able to only down a cup of coffee. I had to tell him, seeing as the funeral precessions would be soon: but how do you tell a child his mother just died?
I was told in the most brutal way possible: physically.
"Mello..."
"Hm~?"
"Um...there's something I gotta tell you..."
The little blonde looked up at me from his bowl, his eyes huge with curiosity and innocence.
"Yeah, Daddy?"
God. How did you do this?
"Um...it looks like...your mom isn't...coming back,"
He cocked his head, confused, "What? Yeah she is! She to'wd me so!"
"Um...well..." I gulped down coffee before continuing, "She was in a car crash and she...died,"
His expression didn't change, and he seemed unphased by what I said.
"So when will she be back? Cause she p'womised! Mama never b'weaks a p'womise!"
"Mello," I got up out of my seat, trying my hardest to not be totally blunt, "She's dead,"
"So? What's 'dat mean?"
...
"It means...um..." I got down on the floor on my knees next to Mello, placing my forefinger to his chest. He watched curiously, looking down at me, "You know how your heart beats and you breathe? It means...your Mom won't do that anymore..."
"So? Do you need to do all 'dat stuff?"
"Yes...in order to stay alive..."
"Daddy, I dunno what any of 'dat has to do wi'f Mama but I know she'll come back! She 'woves me and wouldn't 'weave me 'wike 'dat!"
I cursed under my breath, standing up once more. "Mello...you won't get to see your mother again,"
He didn't say anything for a while, he just continued to stare up at me in confusion.
"I don't...understand, Daddy..."
"Your mother is dead! You'll never see her again, understand?"
I had been nearly screaming, my head spinning. I had quite a temper, especially when people didn't understand what the fuck I was trying to get across. It just happened that this time it was with a child. My child, to be exact.
Mello stared up at me, and for a moment I wondered if he retained any of what I had just screamed at him.
Then, the inevitable. He began to cry.
He stood up, having to hop off the chair to hit the floor, and gave me a look before running off to the bedroom. He had given me a look of hatred and confusion, tears welling up in his big brown eyes and pouring over.
He didn't say anything, but I heard his loud footsteps, then the door shut loudly behind him.
Oh shit, I had fucked it up this time.
I looked down at my mug of coffee, watching as it rippled due to any movement whatsoever. I knew what the death of Misa meant for me. I was the one with custody over Mello now, and as such he would be living with me from now on. Either that or I give him up to an orphanage-
No. No matter how much pain, annoyance, anger and suffering I had to go through, I wouldn't let Mello grow up in such a place.
To grow up alone, isolated without parental guidance and care; it was something that severely fucked up my psyche. To send Mello into a life such as that would be killing him. I may have been pissed off at him, but I didn't hate him.
I followed slowly, hearing his low whimpers as I approached the bedroom. I stood at the closed door for a moment before knocking lightly.
"Mello? Mello, are you ok?"
"G-Go away!"
"Mello, I'm sorry, I just want to talk to you!"
"N-No! You're 'wying! Mama wouldn't 'weave 'wike 'dat!"
"Mello, she couldn't help it, sometimes these things just happen!"
"But Mama-Mama p'womised!"
I sighed, leaning against the door with disdain. I didn't know what to do about this all, Mello was so young and innocent: I wished there was an easier way to tell him this. He was hurt, confused, scared- and hiding from the person trying his very damn hardest to explain it all to him.
"Mello...can I come in, please?"
There was no answer either affirmatory or negatory, so I took his silence as a yes and entered.
Among the decrepit remains of food, cigarettes and God knows what else, I found Mello lying on the ground. He had pulled the sheets off the bed and curled himself up in them, wrapping himself up like a cucoon. He whimpered, keeping turned away from me, and continued to cry. I looked down at him a moment, then bent down, gently picking the boy up in my arms and putting him on the bed.
"'Wet go of me..." he softly whimpered, looking up at me from underneath the sheets, his eyes full of tears.
"I'm sorry, Mello..."
The blonde hid himself back in the blankets, and I sat next to him, making the old bed squeak ever so slightly.
"Daddy... I don't understand any of 'dis..." he shuffled away like a worm, finally resting on the pillows where his dinosaur still lie. Arms emerged to take the small animal, then disappeared once more, taking it with them.
"I know..." Of course I knew, I'd been spending all this time trying to get him to fucking understand it, "You'll understand with time,"
He didn't reply, and he curled up tighter.
"Mello...get out from under those blankets so I can see you,"
Mello first shook his head, yet within a minute or so he complied, unraveling himself.
"Daddy...snuggle..." he wiped away the tears that had slowed, and looked up at me under those bangs, hiccupping the slightest.
How does one snuggle; Especially with a small child? I hadn't really had serious relationships with anyone, and any 'snuggling' was done through sex. Of course, that wasn't going to happen, so what then?
I pulled him into my lap, wrapping my arms awkwardly around his tiny form. He sniffled, yet I felt tiny hands reach up to hold onto my shirt, holding me up to him. He made a small little sniffle before snuggling his head into my shoulder.
"Daddy... I won't see Mama again?"
I breathed out deeply, and pat his blonde head. "No, no you won't,"
He didn't cry more, but stayed frozen in place, making sub frequent little snuffles.
"Daddy...take care of me now?"
...
Would I? Was I ready to take care of the little being that was Mello? A child of four, of whom I had only learned existed yesterday?
"Yes, of course Mello..."
I rustled my hand through his hair, holding his head closer to me.
I don't know why I said that; I had been debating that very question in my mind ever since the phone call, and didn't know anything for sure. In fact, I didn't know anything at all: I wasn't by any means ready to have a child: I was only 24, and not ready for that kind of responsibility! But it had slipped out, I suppose steming from the fact that there was a crying child in my lap and he needed reassurance.
He stayed there in my lap for quite a while, silently clinging to my shirt and calming down. His breathing slowed, and I figured he was asleep. I began to pull him back, but he clung to me closer, leech-like.
"Daddy...don't 'wet go..." he cuddled to me closer, taking a shaky breath, "Can we go watch TV?"
I couldn't help but smile the slightest, taking Mello up in my arms and kissing his head. I took him to the living room, sitting him down in my lap and putting on the television. I switched it to Spongebob, and felt Mello turn around to see the TV, one hand still holding onto me.
We stayed there for quite a while, Mello still in his PJs, until he suddenly sat up. He got off my lap, and stood, looking at me with a little smile. He then said something about getting dressed, and ran off to the bedroom to get his clothes. I watched him go off, knowing it would just be a moment until Mello called my name, needing help getting his shirt on.
Life worked in strange ways.
Yes, he recovered from that quickly: but you have to remember, he's four. He doesn't understand what death is, let alone the magnitude of the situation. Reviews are much loved! More to come soon~!