#40 Accident

Mello felt the sadness before he heard the soft whimpers.

It was a slow, creeping sort of feeling, like an ice-cube was being dripped as it melted onto his bare stomach.

Slowly he turned on his heel, socks doubling as skates on the freshly-polished hallway floor. It was supposed to be against the rules for the children to skid about in their socks but most of them did anyway, having only the smallest micron of respect for Roger.

Besides, they all knew Roger couldn't care less about them, the old prick. All he wanted was a reasonably clean building and somewhere quiet where he could dip his insects in poison and pin them to boards for display.

Matt once muttered to Mello that the old fart would be happier if he could dip all the children in formaldehyde and pin them by their hands and feet to giant cork-boards, so he could put them somewhere to gather dust and bring them out on special occasions to admire, grotesque trophies.

Mello had told Matt he'd been watching too many old horror shows. He didn't admit that the image of his friends and himself being subjected to miniature crucifixions scared the bejeezus out of him.

That was academic. The point was that he had been skating down the hall in his socks, and heard a soft thud somewhere behind him. And now he turned he saw the source of that thud had been his arch-rival.

Near was sitting on his behind, an expression of surprise and pain on his pale face. Mello recognised it, though he'd never seen Near display that face before. It was the expression used by all small children who have just hurt themselves, and genuinely need a hug from their mother or they are going to burst into helpless tears.

But of course, the children here don't have mothers. Or those that do have abusive or incarcerated… (mello hesitated to call these creatures 'mothers') people who happened to give birth to them.

And while his instinct was to smirk at how pathetic Near looked and skid away, he had no intention of being blamed for the boy falling down, so with careful slowness he slid back to where Near sat, biting his lip and blinking hard, trying to force it all back.

Mello crouched beside him. "Come on, it can't have been that bad, whatever happened. Where'd you hurt?"

Near sniffed and pointed at his bent knee. "I fell on it."

Mello nodded and reached to roll up Near's pyjama leg, thinking to himself that this kid seriously needed to pay more attention to what was happening around him, then he might not have forgotten that the floors were slippery and shiny today and wouldn't have skidded on his knee.

Unbidden, his mind remarked on how pale and soft Near's skin was on his legs. He hadn't ever let them see the light of day, most likely. Mello felt a blush on his cheeks as he realised he was seeing a part of Near hardly anyone had ever seen.

He frowned at the dark purplish bruise. But that was all it was, a bruise.

He sighed. "You're fine, nothing to cry about."

Near blinked those big dark eyes again. "Kiss it better."

Mello started, "What!?"

"Kiss it better." Near repeated. "The nurse does it."

Mello wanted to argue, but at this point he could hear others coming around the corner, the last thing he wanted was to be caught touching Near's pale leg. In one swift motion he pecked the blossoming mark and yanked Near's trouser leg back down, before slipping to his feet and skidding off into the darker parts of the house.