Notes: This is AU. Whammy's house is an institution for the mentally unstable . This story will focus on Matt, Mello and Near, who have all been given different, somewhat diverse beginnings, but hopefully I'll be able to level out their personalities canon enough. L may appear. B will definitely appear. This story is rated M for the material that will undoubtedly surface later on. I should probably wait until I have more written to post but…cheers ^_^
The hospital ward was large, pristine, white, and completely hollow. The hospital ward was lined with vacant beds. In the twelfth bed laid Matt Jeevas. He was skinny and sickly pale. Marring that white skin were an assortment of bruises. Beneath the thin hospital issued sheet were far more severe bruises. Finger shaped bruises adorned his bony hips, his thighs. Welts cut into his back, a startling red in contrast to his colorless skin. But his arms were the most telling. Right there on his arms was the reason he was here. At Whammy's house for the mentally unstable. At the crook of each arm were so many tiny, needle point holes, that they bled into one another. Little scars - bruised scars that blatantly revealed exactly what Matt did in his free time.
Matt was fourteen, he was short for his age and underfed. His hair was a ashen red color, shaggy and uncombed. It'd been unwashed before he'd been admitted to the institution. Matt was fourteen, and he'd nearly died. Another, not quite so obvious, reason for his admittance. He'd been found on the side of a road, his face submerged in a puddle of vomit. He'd drowned -- choked -- on his own vomit.
He awoke to this pristine, shiny room and immediately squeezed his eyes shut. A headache, ignited by the painfully bright room, raced across his forehead and it made him grimace and recoil as if he'd actually received a physical blow. And then his mind churned, trying desperately to remember last night. He had no idea where he was.
Easing his eyes open, he soaked in the room. He still had to squint - what the hell was with this lighting? "Hey," he called out to a passing nurse. Pain tore down his throat and his voice was more like a croak. Not as demanding as he'd have liked. It must have been a side effect of all the vomiting he'd done the night before. And all the vomiting the hospital had forced him to do when they pumped his stomach. "Where the fuck am I?"
The nurse glanced at Matt and then back in the direction she was heading. Blatantly reluctant, she approached the boy. "Whammy's house," She informed her. Her tone was robotic in a way that conveyed intelligence. Her lips and tongue formed each word properly - how they were meant to be formed. And Matt was already developing an opinion of this bitch without hearing more than two words from her.
"What the fuck -"
"Please refrain from using derogative language," she cut him off curtly. "Whammy's house is an institution established for children who may not be getting the attentive care they deserve at home. You overdosed on vicodin, Mr. Jeevas," she informed him. Matt didn't remember it, but he didn't doubt her. It was something he was very likely to do. "There are drugs in your system, drugs beyond the vicodin. Illegal substances. And because of your situation, instead of going to a correctional juvenile facility, you have been sent to Whammy's. It is our job to fix you."
"Well, that's awfully kind of you," Matt assured her. His tone, even without the croak, belied his entire sentence. "Why am I -" Matt lifted an arm and the shackle clanked noisily. He'd been confined to the bed. "-handcuffed?"
"Because of the extent of your home situation, there is no way to predict how violent you will become. All new entries, except for extremely rare cases, are restrained upon initial entry, Mr. Jeevas. You will be put into our system and we will give you the right to earn our trust and your freedom. If you succeed in the system to the extent of rehabilitation, we will release you."Matt mulled that over. Well, in his mind, he sort of prodded that bit of information but with his sluggish intake, the information refused to actually turn over. He couldn't think clearly, which seemed to happen more often than you'd think. "What the fuck does that mean?" He asked when the nurse looked ready to leave.
Irritation tore across her face in long winded sprints, but just as quickly she managed to subdue it and tuck it away. Impressive. "At Whammy's house there is a five step process. For the first two steps of that process you are restrained and watched at all times. For the first two steps you are locked in a room, on your own. It is your dorm. You are given the bare minimum essentials and it is up to you to earn more. The only people you will interact with are the orderlies. With step three underway, we remove your restraints, and if we see fit, we give you a room mate. With this step you may eat lunch in the cafeteria, and you'll be given a set amount of free time. It is with step three that we enroll you in the school at Whammy's."
Once more, he soaked up that bit of information. "What if I don't want to?" He supposed that in juvie, he'd have a chance to pursue his own addictions. Sex, drugs and abuse, really. Not everybody wanted to be saved.
"You do not have a choice, Mr. Jeevas. You are already being put into our system. You may remain at step one if you'd like. But all you'll get from that is an empty room and bland meals. The orderlies here are very uncaring when it comes to what we like to call 'under steppers'." Was that a threat?
Matt just shrugged. He was sure he could stomach just how 'uncaring' the orderlies could be. "When the fuck do I get out of this damn room?" He asked, but with his wording and the sharp croak of his tone, it sounded like a demand. A defiant demand.
The nurse couldn't hide her irritation this time. If this really was a home for the throwaway kids, surely she was forced to deal with far worse than Matt every day. "Judging from your attitude, I suppose you're well enough now." The nurse turned abruptly and walked away. He'd pissed her off, and yet he could feel his chapped lips curling into a painful smile.
But then the hospital ward's orderly appeared beside his bed. The handcuffs were unfastened and Matt was jerked roughly from the bed. It took actual effort to get his feet underneath himself and regain his balance. He felt weak. He arms were jerked behind his back and the handcuffs were refastened. His stomach churned. The pain was so intense that he was suddenly concerned with just exactly what the fuck was going on inside of his stomach. He'd overdosed, and his stomach had to be pumped. But the pain was crippling. He paused and almost hunched over, but the orderly wouldn't let him. Matt was jerked forward and forced to keep up with the long strides of the orderly.