damned_institute | [NIGHTSHIFT 35] M31-M40 HALLWAY

Some disagreement. Matt raised an eyebrow and tried to get a better look at the injury, but it was too dark. He'd say nothing more about it if Mello wasn't willing to speak up.

As for himself... "I went on a small supply run." It was said in a somewhat detached voice, as though he was coming to terms with the fact that he'd actually done it. That it was some unbelievable thing. One hand still gripped the pillowcase at his side, and he gave it a small nudge. He wasn't going to add that he still wasn't sure it had been worth it. At least he hadn't actually been injured in the process.

"Alone?" he asked, incredulous. He didn't actually add 'you idiot,' but the sentiment was clear in his tone. Sure, Mello had done it himself, but he'd had his negligence pointed out...by Matt, that damn hypocrite. He gave his friend a dubious look-over but saw no visible injury. He was sitting in a hallway and refusing to move, which wasn't a great sign, but with tar-drenched lungs and a strict regimen of sitting around gaming, it was no surprise that he'd be winded after so much running. "What did you need? I have a ton of stuff you could have used. And that doesn't explain sitting here like monster bait."

The fact that he hadn't pressed further about Mello's evening reminded him why Matt was one of the few people he kept around regardless of their usefulness.

"Yeah..." Matt mumbled in that same detached voice. He still wasn't quite sure why he'd done it, but at the time it had seemed like a better idea than sitting around in his room and doing nothing. Networking be damned. He had a whole club behind him. "It was a damn stupid idea, I agree."

Saying that, he reached into the bag and rummaged about until he'd found the particular item he was looking for. When he had, he pulled it out and held it at arm's length on the side opposite Mello, far enough away from him that the blond couldn't grab it immediately. "Got some things for a mutual friend, and this. Shame there was only one there."

He hadn't intended to give it to Mello so soon, but the guy seemed worn out and Matt could sympathize.

That definitely would have been a damn good reason in Mello's book, although he thought it had been a terrible idea.

Maybe not, though. He tilted his head in thought. Assuming their mutual friend was L and assuming Matt had raided the kitchen, he'd seen a possibility that even Mello had missed: L's recent difficulties might be related to sugar deprivation. He raised his eyebrows, impressed, but then rolled his eyes at Matt's teasing.

"You're still an idiot," he said, but his grateful tone made the insult useless. With care he lowered his injured arm to his lap, then made what he knew would be futile attempt to grab the candy. In a better mood he might have simply demanded it, but considering how much trouble Matt must have gone through to procure it, he'd let him have the satisfaction of a little taunting.

Edited 2008-09-27 06:58 (UTC)

Oh that was just cute. Matt wished he'd had a camera. He also wondered exactly how long he could keep the blond grabbing for the chocolate bar.

It couldn't be the easiest of things to do, however, and he didn't want to hear any flack later for having messed around with him in a time of need. So, with a sigh that might have been just a little overdone, he brought the bar in closer to where Mello could grab it. It was kinda sad, really, but he knew if someone had waved a Gameboy just out of reach he would have done the exact same thing.

"I'm aware," he responded to the not-quite-insult with a smirk. "Try not to eat it too fast."

Mello snorted at the suggestion, which was somewhat like asking Matt to make a pack of cigarettes last a week. Matt gave in sooner than expected, luckily, but it took another few seconds of staring thoughtfully at the closed bar before Mello decided to attempt opening it with one hand.

"This isn't even your block," he pointed out before biting the edge of the wrapper and pulling. A few seconds of effort resulted in nothing but scrapes in the foil, so he tried again using his thumbnail. "You should have gone back to your room."

"That was the original plan," Matt sighed again. Mello was about to eat something so he figured he'd spare him the very gruesome details. Not that describing the most disgusting of scenes would probably keep the blond from devouring his chocolate at the moment. "I got sidetracked by something nasty and needed a breather."

The candy wouldn't last long. That was a given. It wasn't anything he was going to worry about, either. Eating it all at once and getting a nice reprieve would be better than trying to eat it slowly over a few days. If anything, that would only torture him more.

He watched Mello fumble with the wrapper for a bit. He'd forgotten how little the man had left of his fingernails, and that couldn't make it any easier to open the packaging up, especially without the use of one hand. He knew his friend was proud, but... "I'll get that started for you, if you want."

The fact that Matt's answer had been nearly as vague as his own suggested that he didn't feel like talking about it, either. Mello let the subject slide, though he imagined 'needing a breather' owed more to Matt's bad habits than whatever he encountered.

He handed Matt the candy with a gruff "hmph" where most people would have used a 'thanks.' "Don't get used to being able to survive that," he cautioned. Matt must have walked across half the institute without being attacked. The luck he'd lacked in life must have been waiting for him here.

Still, he should be networking. Just like Mello should be.

What was Artemis planning? If he was smart, blackmail, but if he wasn't, there was a good chance Mello might not survive the next night. Either way, using the Arts and Crafts club was no longer a possibility for himself, but if he and Matt switched-

Get the fuck out of my head.

Fine. Mello could win this even if he had to play by Artemis' rules. He'd just have to use unsuspecting pawns to keep tabs on the Arts and Crafts club and focus his efforts somewhere beyond Artemis' reach, assuming Schuldig and Artemis worked together. This was good, actually. The fact that Artemis and Near were on the same side meant that he didn't have to divide his energy to defeat them both.

"We're both going to work with the History Club from now on," he said. Then, as if an afterthought, "Do you know anyone who can teach you to defend yourself?"

Taking the chocolate bar back, Matt began unwrapping it just enough that Mello would be able to get into it. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Then he handed it back.

He knew the blond was right, though. Thankfully, what monsters he'd seen were already engaged in combat. He'd been damn lucky to get past the two (God, what had those things been?) monsters in the sun room. Running out on his own like that wasn't something he planned to do often. Or ever again.

"Defend myself?" Matt raised an eyebrow at this last comment. Mello must have gotten into trouble with whatever club he'd been in. If the circumstances had been different, he might have taken this opportunity to knock on him for it. "I know a couple people in the club with combat experience, but I don't know if they teach."

"Ask them," Mello said simply. "Or find someone else. If you can't, ask Ryuga when you drop off that stuff." He didn't imagine he'd have to explain the importance of the order. There couldn't be any more weak links in this chain, and as it was, Matt made an easy target. He was physically defenseless and he was one of the few people Mello preferred alive, which wouldn't be lost on a telepath.

Mello took the bar from Matt and peeled back enough of the wrapper to bite off a fair-sized chunk. Jesus christ. Though it was never possible to forget how much he enjoyed chocolate, the specific splendor of the flavor didn't cling to memory. It wasn't the brand he usually ate but that didn't matter...it was chocolate. And pretty much exactly what he needed.

"You have good timing," he said, which was far closer to thanks than he was used to giving. If he'd had use of two hands the candy would have been gone in less than a minute, but dealing with the wrapper meant the process was relatively slow. He took a second bite and leaned his head back against the wall.

"Nn. Fine, fine." Matt considered pulling out one of the bags of chips he'd grabbed, but decided against it. He'd save those for later. The situation would have been a hell of a lot better if he'd had a cigarette to join Mello in a moment of relaxation.

Dropping the habit. Right.

He could go to one of the fighters in the History Club, of which there were several, but finding one to train him might be difficult. Even if he did, there wasn't exactly a bountiful amount of time in which to train. If he did it at night that could be wasting time better served doing... well, he wasn't sure what, but everyone else seemed to find plans.

"It would be smart for them in the long run," Mello said, guessing at the reason behind Matt's reluctance. "You'd be more of an asset if you knew how to fight." As it was, Matt was pretty much dead weight...bait, even. He was smart, but it didn't seem like that counted for much when the monsters didn't follow reason. Truly erratic behavior was the bane of anyone trained as a detective.

Luckily, monsters were not his primary concern.

As for himself, Mello would have more difficulty. He needed to start learning immediately, next evening if possible, but without knowing the urgency of the situation it was unlikely that anyone would teach him before he'd healed. By that time, he could be dead.

He took another bite of chocolate and considered his limited options.

Sure, anyone would be more of an asset here if they could fight. Matt was fairly sure a good number of people didn't, though. (Some of the ones he'd passed up earlier, even. Sucked to be them.) "Or if I could cast magic spells," he deadpanned, waving the fingers of one hand in a not-quite-spooky manner.

He hadn't met with that many members of the History Club yet, so his options were limited. There was always the option of leaving a message on the bulletin, but there would be people Matt didn't exactly want knowing what he was up to. If there was one person he was not getting help from, it was that damn Heiji brat from the night before.

"And what're you going to do?"

"Yeah. You work on that." Mello scowled at the idea with far more distaste than the subject usually merited.

How had Artemis survived a sucking chest wound? Was that another aspect of Schuldig's power, or something Artemis himself possessed? Mello had seen him injured several times over the last week, and often badly. If he could heal himself, it must take a lot of energy and effort...something worse than having his arm broken, Mello remembered from a few days prior, and he couldn't think of any form of mental strain he wouldn't prefer to his present state. However, Schuldig had asked if he was finished, which suggested he was doing it himself. Perhaps it only worked on the verge of death. Not the most useful of skills, but still convenient. Mello took another bite of chocolate.

Schuldig. He'd sensed Artemis' trouble from beyond the room, and from their conversation it seemed that Artemis had called him. Artemis wasn't a telepath, thank fucking god, so Schuldig must be constantly scanning ambient thoughts. He was far more skilled, then. There didn't seem to be a limit to his power.

"Hnf." The words 'I don't know' did not come easily to Mello. "I have a couple ideas. If they don't work out, you'll have to teach me as you go."

"Teach you?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "You're not serious." Except that he was, and Matt didn't like that idea one bit. Mello had better find someone else and quick, because he'd be a lousy teacher.

Having sat for a bit, his breath was sufficiently recovered. He might stand up once he could get his body to realize this was the best thing to do. Then he could return to his room and stash these items before morning came. This was a fair amount to have accomplished in one night, if he said so himself.

"I'll look into it." Out of everyone he'd met in that club so far there was really only one viable option... If that didn't work, he'd have to ask around.

"I need to learn, and I need to learn now," Mello said firmly. He wasn't looking forward to it, but it wasn't a matter of choice. "Most people won't teach me like this."

L was out, without question. Mello would just get "be patient," or, more likely, "I see your impatience is still a hindrance to your judgment." Misora wouldn't do anything behind L's back. He was familiar with her fierce loyalty. His best bet was Sai, but there was a possibility that the ninja would go easy on him, especially knowing he was injured. Mello couldn't afford that. No one who wanted him dead would give him that courtesy.

Matt wanted to say something about the irony of this current situation - that he was currently the one with the right connections and not Mello. He could lord this over the man, and indeed he was thoroughly tempted, but he wasn't that petty.

At least not at the moment.

"There's a clinic in this hall, isn't there?" he reminded the blond. "Did you want to go have your wrist looked at?" He doubted he'd get a 'yes' on this one. Mello wasn't the sort of person to run for aid if he didn't have to, and the coming of day would bring with it the Institute's odd healing powers. The broken wrist would likely be in at least a splint come morning.

Mello groaned with irritation. Matt should have known him better than that, at least. "I'm the only competent person who's ever set foot in that place," he grumbled. "If I wanted to do something about it, I'd do it myself." And he sure as hell didn't want to do something about it. Even the idea of prodding or twisting the injury made him cringe, and he had a feeling it couldn't be easily set. Let the nurses deal with it when he was unconscious.

Mello took a moment to savor a piece of chocolate, pressing it to the roof of his mouth with his tongue and waiting for it to melt. He had no idea when he'd get his hands on some next, and although he knew better than to think he could actually save some for later, he might as well draw out the process of eating it.

(From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/457725.html?thread=37592317#t37763325))

Artemis opened the door of the room, not exactly expecting Mello to be sitting right outside. Fortunately, Schuldig's presence behind him was enough to keep him from outright shutting the door and pulling a desk in front of it. No, he was going to walk calmly to the Captain's room--despite his front being covered in blood.

He didn't say anything, but picked up the scalpel he'd dropped and tucked it back in his pocket.

Schuldig, for his part, kept the knife prominently displayed as he stepped out into the hall - not that he expected that to put Mello off, of course. He hardly needed it to put Mello off. The implied threats (and there were as many as Mello's overactive little mind could dream up; already he was providing Schuldig with ideas the telepath would likely never have gone to the trouble of dreaming up) behind his telepathy were more than enough to hold the blond at bay, to say nothing of the broken wrist.

"Hey," he greeted the men lazily. "Almost forgot to tell you, Scarface - I don't work alone. My boss is a precognitive, my partner's a berserker who can't feel pain, and our young ward's a telekinetic who's strong enough to resurrect the dead." He grinned. Why tell Mello that only one other member of Schwarz was present? "Just thought you might want to try to factor them into your plans, since you're so hard at work on them already." He glanced at the chocolate. "Also, you really ought to steer clear of junk food. That stuff'll kill you."

How could he resist the entertainment of seeing Mello's brain tie itself in knots trying to plan for a precognitive? Crawford would have enjoyed it.

That done, he grinned over the blond's head at Matt. "Oh, yeah - and my connections are better than yours or his, so don't get too flush with pride."

Hmm...probably less than thirty seconds. Not half bad, although not so impressive as his work with the PTA and the napalm.

Matt half-surmised that, with the way Mello consumed chocolate before arriving here, if it was going to kill him it already would have.

That wasn't the most important issue at hand, though. The two people who'd come out of the nearby room obviously knew Mello and were most likely responsible for the blond's broken wrist, though he couldn't understand why Mello would have stuck around in this area if that was the case. That might be his fault, though, even if he wasn't going to admit it.

The kid was covered in blood yet seemed to be walking fine. Perhaps not his own? And then the red-head... What the hell was he talking about exactly?

He turned to Mello, sincerely confused. "Is he okay in the head?" The last comment about his connections made him suspect that he was someone who'd been keeping track of at least Mello's movements to some extent. The fact that it came up right as he'd been thinking about it didn't register - and if it did, he excused it as coincidence.

Mello scowled when the door opened and looked away, bracing for the worst. He didn't expect Schuldig to physically harm either of them, provided Matt didn't do something idiotic, but he knew the man would make his identity as a telepath known, especially now that he knew Mello wanted to keep it from his friend.

...get out of my head get out of my head get out of my head...

Mello stared at him with a hot hatred, but unlike his usual hot hatred, there was a thin, barely visible trace of intimidation. What Schuldig said sank into him with a cold, sickening feeling, but he didn't say anything in response. He didn't have to. Schuldig was already listening.

"No. He's not." When Mello answered Matt his voice was as flat and matter-of-fact as possible given the circumstances. Adding 'just ignore them' would only prompt Matt to take them more seriously, so Mello held his silence. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at Artemis, hoping that the implied reminder of what had just taken place would make the boy uncomfortable enough to continue quickly on his way. Artemis had survived, but being seconds away from death was an experience terrifying enough to haunt most people for days, even weeks after the fact. For all of his pride and intelligence, Artemis was still a child.

As much as he hated to admit it, sometimes Artemis was in over his head. Now that Schuldig was here, he was safe again, but when it had been just him and Mello the situation was different. He'd nearly died in that room, on that floor, without saying goodbye to Haku. That wouldn't happen again. He couldn't simply rely on Schuldig's ability to come bail him out of every situation. In a way, he had always been in over his head. He had powerful allies to be certain, but they didn't do him much good when they weren't next to him. He needed better self-defense.

Artemis stared down Mello, volumes passing between them. If you do that again, everyone will know. Schuldig and Schwarz will see to your corpse, and I will ruin you from beyond the grave. Mark me, I am no mere child.

"Let's go," Artemis said grudgingly, turning away from Mello's gaze. He wasn't going to antagonize a wounded animal.

"Why be in my right mind when I can be in everyone else's?" Schuldig countered blithely. Unlike Artemis, he couldn't think of anything better to do with a wounded animal than poke it with the sharpest stick he could find.

However, holding Artemis up wasn't exactly doing the boy any favors, and it was so rare that he was actually nice to someone...and he was on a roll, too. Might as well keep it going while it lasted. So rather than linger, he blew Mello a lazy kiss goodbye. "I'll keep you in mind."

It was with a raised eyebrow that Matt watched Schuldig and Artemis pass. Even for people as smart as they should have been, in a situation such as this was, there were some things that the logical mind needs to be shown directly in order to fully take into account. Therefore, "telepathy" didn't quite register as something it would be possible for anyone in the Institute to do. Not yet for Matt, anyway.

He looked to Mello, baffled and hoping for an explanation. From his perspective, Schuldig simply came off as an egotistical bastard and possible flirt. Not the sort of person who would easily get under the blond's skin.

There was definitely something he was missing.

[NIGHTSHIFT 35] M31-M40 HALLWAY

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