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The first time Mello noticed something was wrong with Matt was when the redhead came back to their shared room at Wammy’s House with a bleeding lip and a red cheek. Mello had asked about it and was given some bullshit story about Matt falling and hitting his lip. Because it was Matt, Mello hadn’t called him out for the lie, but he had started keeping a closer eye on things.
Not two days later Matt had begun walking with a limp and holding his ribs. This time he said that he had slipped in the shower. Again, Mello let him get away with lying, but in no way did he let it go.
A week passed like this, with Matt’s injury rate increasing and Mello becoming more and more pissed off. Now, six days after Mello’s eleventh birthday, Matt had limped into their room, nose bleeding and eye swollen, claiming to have slipped on the ice. Which was the worst lie he could have told, considering Matt hated to go outside. Annoyed now, Mello slid away from his desk, turning the chair to look at his friend.
“Matt, who the fuck do you think your fooling?” The redhead, who had grabbed a cloth from the bathroom to stop the bleeding from his nose, blinked owlishly at the blonde.
“W-wha?” asked the redheaded ten year old thickly through the cloth. Mello glared, standing and nearly herding Matt to his bed. The redhead sat gingerly as the blonde took the cloth from him and tipped his head back. He held the cloth in place, blood smearing on his fingers, but he hardly cared.
“I mean, when were you going to tell me that someone is kicking your ass?” Matt’s eyes went impossibly wide at the question.
“M’not gettn’ m’ ass kicke’n’d.” Mello raised his eyebrow. Matt squirmed under the scrutiny.
“Really? So you somehow managed to get bruises on your wrist that look just like fingerprints by falling on ice?” Mello asked, his tone hard, even though his voice had yet to deepen. Matt looked away from Mello’s intense gaze, his eyes tearing up, though that could have been from Mello adjusting the cloth.
“Dn’t wan ya ta know.” he said, his voice slightly distorted and muffled. “I though’ I c’ handle i’.” Mello resisted the urge to point out just how well Matt had handled it. Instead he busied himself with gently feeling around Matt’s swollen eye to see if there was any permanent damage.
“Who?” Mello asked as calmly as he could manage. Matt gasped, obviously reading the look in Mello’s eyes correctly.
“D’know. Som’n old’r.” But by the look on his face, Matt did know who, he just didn’t want Mello to know.
“Liar.” It was said without any venom, but Mello’s word still got through as intended.
“Mro, I c’nt tell ya. Ya’d ge’ in tr’ble.” Well, it was good to know that the redhead knew him so well. Not that his evading the question would do much. Mello would find the bastard one way or another.
“Fine. Let’s just get you cleaned up. It’s almost dinner time.”
It was a good thing Mello had experience telling when bones were broken or just bruised. Matt was lucky, nothing was broken but his pride, and three fingernails. It was good to know that Matt actually had fought back.
They got to dinner right on time, and sat in at their usual table with R and F, who both gave Matt worried looks but said nothing to him. They chatted aimlessly, F going on about his latest crush on a girl who called herself Oliver, R listing all the new cheats he had learned on whatever game him and Matt were obsessed over, and Mello listen halfheartedly to the clamoring voices. Matt was worryingly quiet though, only talking when someone spoke directly to him. His eyes kept darting to a table across the room where a group of thirteen year olds were sitting, talking about something that was obviously funny. Mello only knew of one of them. Perrin, a black haired asshole who though that the world owed him a living. He was the one talking, the others laughing loudly. Mello’s eyes narrowed and his gaze flicked to Matt. The redhead wouldn’t meet his eyes. Mello’s glare darkened further.
It was almost at the end of dinner when Perrin and his gang stood, making their sauntering way over to the small group of nerds and misfits. Perrin, dressed in ripped jeans, and a t shirt so faded it’s pattern was lost in a swirl of red fabric, slid right behind Matt, who stiffened instantly. Mello had noticed the black haired boy before, had even seen him talk to Matt once, but he had never seemed as threatening as he did now that Mello was truly looking. The blonde grit his teeth. This was just one more thing to add to his list of failures.
“Hey, Matt. Did you do that stuff that we talked about?” asked Perrin, his hands firmly on the back of Matt’s chair. The redhead shook his head slowly. Perrin’s grip tightened, his knuckles lightening in color. “Why not?” the black haired boy asked, his voice calm but strained. His minions scooted in closer, their faces unreadable. Mello fixed the one on the left with his patented ‘Fuck with me and I’ll kill you’ glare. The boy took a step back before he realized what he was doing. Catching himself, he returned the glare, but Mello already knew he had won.
“I told you I wasn’t gonna.” answered Matt finally, breaking Mello out of his glaring contest. The other boy sighed in relief as that intense blue gaze left him.
“Stupid bitch.” Perrin muttered, his face twisting for just a second. Then he was drawing his hand back and slapping it down across the back of Matt’s head. Mello froze, watching as the redhead’s head snapped forward. It was harder than the way Mello smacked at him, and it obviously hurt, because the next second Mello heard Matt sniffle.
Before he realized what he was doing, Mello was up on his chair and launching across the table. He slammed into Perrin, and despite being a fair amount shorter than the dark haired boy, Perrin was knocked off balance by the force of Mello’s jump. They landed, Mello on top of the stupid asshole, and the minute they were resting on the hardwood floor of the dining room, Mello brought his fist up and slammed it down against Perrin’s stupid face. The dark haired boy screamed, his nose gushing blood from where Mello had broken it. His arms flew up, trying to block the blows that rained over his flesh.
Annoyed that his hits were no longer working as he wanted them to, Mello drug his short nails down Perrin’s arms, drawing blood. The dark haired boy screamed again, his voice hitting a pitch that rivaled Linda’s when she got new paints. j
Blood welled steadily, but Mello didn’t take the time to pay attention. Instead he settled for angling his hands onto Perrin’s neck. He squeezed, and Perrin made a small squeaking noise in the back of his throat. Heedless of the movement around him, Mello squeezed his fingers tighter into the tanned skin of Perrin’s neck. The older boy’s fingers scrambled at the back of Mello’s hands, tearing the flesh in his desperation to get loose. Mello didn’t even feel the pain as his hands bled, to focused on taking this bastard down. Seconds before Perrin would have passed out, there were arms around him, and a body was pulling him off balance. There was the faint impression of warm skin, cinnamon shampoo, and red bull. Recognizing Matt, Mello didn’t fight back, but he did struggle to pull away.
“Let me go.” He growled, his eyes fixed on the now panting Perrin.
“Mello, leave it. You can’t kill him.” said Matt, his voice soft and tear wrecked. Mello’s anger rose once more. He twisted, turning in Matt’s grip to face him. Sure enough, Matt’s face was tear streaked. Mello saw red.
“You’re mine, Mattie.” He said, his voice rising in volume. “Mine. Not this bastard’s. You’re mine to yell at when you don’t do what you need to do, or steal my chocolate. You’re mine to smack when you’re annoying as hell and mine to hit if I want to. You’re not his, not ever. I’ll kill him if he ever touches you again!” Matt just looked at him for a moment, eyes unreadable behind tinted goggles. Then he was surging forward, wrapping his arms tight around Mello’s shaking frame. The blonde stiffened, trying to pull away, but Matt just held his friend even tighter.
“Bunch of pussies, all of you.” rasped out Perrin, now standing above the two. He had his hand raised as if to hit them, his eyes dark and murderous. When Mello looked up at him, he began to bring his arm down towards them. Suddenly, there was a hand on his wrist, holding his arm in place. Startled, Perrin looked behind him.
Watari stood, tall and imposing in his usual suit, his face calm but his eyes flashing. Perrin gulped. “Would anyone like to tell me what is going on here?” Both R and F were the first to answer, talking so fast and harmonizing so well that only bits of what they were saying were getting through. Sighing, Watari held up a hand. “One at a time.” R and F looked at each other, and through some unspoken decision, R went first.
“It was all that guy’s fault.” He said in his slightly faded Australian accent. “He just came over and started picking on Matt.”
“And we think that he’s the one who’s been giving Matt all those bruises.” Chimed in F, his eyes bright with anger.
“Yeah, and then he hit Matt, and Mello just sorta lunged, like a cobra or something. It was awesome!” Finished R, seemingly proud of himself. Watari’s eyes hardened.
“Is that so, Perrin?” The dark haired boy ducked his head. Watari sighed. “Mello, Matt, I want you to report to the infirmary at once, and then I want you to go to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He then turned back to Perrin. “And you… you will report to my office in five minutes.” Perrin’s eyes widened at those words, his breathing stopping and tears welling in his eyes. Mello may have had a small moment of satisfaction from that expression. Really, just a little bit…
Without further ado, Mello stood, taking Matt with him. To get to the door, Mello and Matt had to walk past Perrin and Watari, and right as they were a mere foot away from the dark haired douche bag, Perrin muttered “Yeah, that’s right, run away, little girls.” Without a second though, Mello kicked his foot our sideways, landing a solid kick to Perrin’s left knee. He went down hard, crying out the whole way. Watari turned, his eyes going to Mello, his eyebrow raising. The blonde just shrugged and walked off, Matt following out into the hallway.
It was later that night, when they were both crawling into bed that Matt finally talked to Mello. They were both under their covers, the lights out and Matt’s nightlight illuminating just enough to keep away the monsters. “They wanted me to hack into the firewall and disable the content blockers.” He said, as if carrying on a conversation they had been having previously. Mello, who was staring up at the ceiling, blinked slowly.
“Why?” he asked finally. Tech savvy he was not.
“So they could look at all those porn sites Watari blocks I guess.” answered the redhead, his voice slurring slightly from exhaustion.
“You mean those bastards tormented you just so they could look at naked women?” asked the blonde, a tinge of anger creeping through his body.
“Guess so. I told them I didn’t want to, so they hit me. Then they tried the next day. I kept telling them no, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.” said Matt, his voice small.
Mello frowned. “Well they will now.” he said, his bandaged hands clenching into fists. There was a rustle of movement, and then Matt was pulling back Mello’s covers. They did this often when Mello woke up screaming, or Matt couldn’t cope with the darkness. Neither of them questioned it anymore.
Mello slid over, making more room for Matt on the full bed, which the redhead took full advantage of. He curled up against Mello’s side, tucking his head under Mello’s chin. The blonde wrapped his arm around the redhead’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mihael.” Mello froze for a second at the mention of his original name.
“No problem, Mail.”
fin