Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Death Note franchise

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Who Am I?

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The headquarters of the Kira investigation was silent, save for the quiet typing that seemed to echo throughout the large suite. It was nearly four-thirty in the morning and the those aiding with the case were sleeping peacefully in their private rooms. There were only three exceptions to this: the teenager accused of being Kira who was sleeping in a chair, his head resting on the table in front of him, metal cuff around his wrist; the famed detective tapping away at his keyboard, one finger at a time; the elderly man working meticulously in the kitchen, preparing tea with thirteen squares of sugar. On a normal day, L would take three or four cubes- he preferred his coffee sweet, but his tea somewhat bitter. This night, however, was anything but ordinary, and Watari knew that without him uttering a word.

By the time the white-haired man was at L's side, the typing had long ceased. The detective sat motionless, staring blankly at the screen in front of him. The list of search results on the screen were all a dull purple, indicating their status as previously visited pages. The young man barely noticed when Watari cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving the list that seemed to mock him. After some time, he finally turned to face him, his eyes weary.

"Thank you, Wammy." This was a name that L reserved for times like these- when the nights were quiet and when there weren't any ears for it to fall upon- apart from theirs. Weak hands gratefully reached for the hot mug, a sigh escaping his dried lips as the heat seeped through his skin.

"Of course, L." Eyes filled with wisdom travelled over the detective's shoulder to the illuminated screen. The skin near them crinkled with equal parts worry and pity. "You should get some rest. I'll watch over Light for awhile." The suggestion was met with a slow shake of the head.

"I don't think I can." L turned his owlish eyes back to the glowing screen, "It's been seventeen years. Seventeen years and I still can't remember a thing."

"Then perhaps it's best to leave it for now. You have enough to worry about with Kira." The weight of his words was heavy and was felt immediately by the two men.

Their conversation dissolved into a restless silence. Both men gazed at the screen, unspoken words leaving a sour taste on their tongues. In truth, L hadn't so much as thought of Kira for hours. His mind had been in a haze, a weightless dizziness that seemed to overtake his very being. He distantly wondered if he was even capable of solving a case anymore. Of course, this had been a steady decline for the prodigy. A decline lasting seventeen years- perhaps longer, if only he could remember a time before that. Sure, he had grown into a brilliant detective. But the title meant nothing to him- not if he couldn't solve the only case that ever bore any true weight.

"I just wish I knew." L's hands trembled around the mug, his voice barely audible, "Who were they? Who am I?"

Watari had long grown accustomed to this, though it never became any easier for him. September third- the day that L had first entered his life. It was a day that he, himself, treasured. His life had grown so much more meaningful with the eccentric boy in it. He celebrated it and wanted nothing more than for the young man to feel the same eager anticipation that he felt. Unfortunately, this day had the reverse effect on him. It served as a yearly reminder of his only unsolved case: the mystery of his identity. And every year, on September third, L closed himself off from the world even more than usual.

"What have I done wrong? I've solved countless cases with ease. Yet, no matter how many times I come back to this, I cannot figure it out. This doesn't make any sense. I should remember something. I don't have brain damage, so why can't I remember?"

"You were young, L. You likely experienced something traumatic. It's perfectly natural to block painful memories out-"

"You don't understand, Wammy!" The detective snapped, setting his mug down with more force than necessary. The older man looked at the younger, startled at his outburst. The only sound came from the light snores escaping Light's lips. The silence hung there for a moment before a quiet apology was uttered, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I understand that you're frustrated." He clasped a hand on L's shoulder, smiling softly at him. "This is your family we're talking about." The detective nodded, his lips pursed.

"I need to know who I am." L's arms hugged his legs close, and Watari mused that he hadn't seen him look this vulnerable in years.

"Well I know who you are." Watari tightened his hold on the detective's shoulder, meeting his gaze as the younger's eyes looked up to him questioning, "You are L. The boy I raised to be a fine young man. A man who knows right from wrong and who defends the weak. I believe that you'll find your family, but if you don't, then that's fine. You've done your best and I couldn't be more proud of you. I will never tell you to stop searching for them, but I also know that it isn't healthy for you to strain yourself like this. I worry about you."

L's eyes widened as Watari's words sank in, faint traces of pink emerged across his cheeks. He wasn't used to the affection. Though Watari did raise him, they had maintained a relatively professional relationship for the majority of his career as a detective. In truth, he wasn't sure how to respond.

"I…erm… Thank you, Wammy. That-That means a lot." He scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. Watari laughed softly, only serving to fluster the young man more.

"You don't need to thank me." He squeezed his shoulder again and turned to walk back to the surveillance room.

….

Headquarters was silent as rain pelted the world around it. The clouds were thick, covering the heavens and hiding any light from the sun. Throughout the city, people were trying to shelter themselves from the downpour- either by means of umbrella, rain jacket, awning, or simply sprinting to get to cover. Inside headquarters, the investigation team was busy at work, searching for any piece of information they may had missed. One of the seats was empty, the melancholy detective mysteriously absent from his place in front of his computer.

Down one of the many halls strode the detective in question. His feet drug across the tile, his heart heavier than it had ever been. Black eyes were filled with sadness in dread, yet also not without a distant fire of determination. That determination was the only thing that willed his bare feet to move toward their destination- the surveillance room. Once he got to the door, his hand hung in the air, hovering above the door knob. He knew his fate. He understood his future. And he accepted it. What he wasn't sure if he accepted was that Wammy had lied to him. He couldn't comprehend that the man who raised him from childhood, the man who so diligently worked with him on each and every case, would keep something this important from him. He had had a lead all along, a lead that had been right under his nose. And L did not want to believe it.

But he knew that his time was short. He could not explain it, but felt that Kira had already won. There had been a change in Light Yagami, slight but noticeable to the detective's keen eye. And that change seemed to pull the trigger. He knew that he had run out of time to catch his corrupted friend. And so now was the time to finally discover the truth- no matter how painful it would be. Throwing caution to the wind, he forced his shaking hand to clutch the knob and thrust the door open. The elderly man did not turn from his seat in front of the computers at first, responding without looking at him.

"What's the matter, Ryuzaki?" L's throat was dry and he couldn't find his voice, his mouth opening and closing without releasing a sound. When he didn't respond, Watari's typing finally ceased and he turned to face him, "What is it?" It took a moment for the detective to force the words out.

"Tell me the truth, Watari." The older man raised his eyebrows.

"I don't-"

"You know what happened to them. You've known all along. So tell me." Watari grew rigid at the accusation, focusing his attention to cleaning his glasses instead. "Please. I have a right to know the truth, don't I?"

The prolonged silence continued with Watari looking everywhere but at the detective. L grew more desperate, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

"Please, Watari. Kira has won and I fear I don't have much time left. I've lost. I just want to know what happened to them." Watari jolted at the need in L's voice. Never before had the young man admitted defeat on a case- even the ones that he had indeed lost. It deeply worried him.

"L, this isn't like you. Why are you talking like this?"

"Because I've lost! It's over!"

"Why do you say that? How could you even know that? You're still standing and we have the Death Note. We're closer to catching him than we ever have been. I simply don't understand why you think it's over." Watari pressed, trying to understand the young man's urgency. L ran a hand through his tussled hair, his eyes unreadable- though Watari swore that he saw fear lying dormant in them.

"I don't know. I can just feel it. The look in Light's eyes, the way that he just seems so calm despite us finding the Death Note. If anything, he appears confident."

"But shouldn't he be? Shouldn't he be just as thrilled as the rest of us are about the break in the case? After all, we're winning." But the detective was already shaking his head.

"That isn't what I meant. There's a change in him. His attitude, his posture, his very demeaner- they're all too reminiscent of before his confinement."

"You mean-"

"Light is Kira again. And his confidence, despite us having his weapon, tells me that we've fallen right into his trap. His voluntary confinement, Yotsuba, us getting ahold of the notebook… they were all planned out meticulously. Light knew all of this would happen. I don't know how, but he did."

"Well that's brilliant then! You've figured it out, which means that we've got him!" Though the defeated look in his eyes did not match his optimistic words.

"There's no way to prove it. And from the looks of things, it's too late… for both of us, I'm afraid." Besides the quiet buzzing of the many monitors, the room was quiet. L's voice was small when he spoke again. "So, please, tell me. Who were they? What were they like? What… What happened to them?"

"I suppose… I suppose that it is time that I tell you. I've kept it from you long enough." A flicker of something akin to hope flashed through L's eyes as Watari spoke. "Where to begin…

"I knew your grandfather many years ago. The two of us worked together on a case in the seventies. There was a criminal smuggling illegal ammunition from the United States into the Middle East. Your grandfather worked as a police consultant in the States while I aided the police in Great Britain. Since smuggling route went through Great Britain, the N.P.A asked for my help. Your grandfather and I worked very closely and became good friends.

"When your grandfather died, I traveled to the States for the funeral. That's when I met your parents. Your mother and father were young back then- not any older than you are now. Your father was brilliant. He was a professor of forensics at Dartmouth. His wife, your mother, was a writer. You've actually read a few of her books before. If you can believe it, you found them all on your own- simply by chance. She was still pregnant with you when I met them."

"What did they look like? Were they good people?" L seemed to be in a trance, his eyes wide with interest. Watari smiled softly at him, his heart still heavy.

"Your father was soft-spoken and loved to read. He had a whole library in their apartment- your mother complained that it was a waste of space and that they could spend money on books when they had a larger home. He had fair skin like yours, though his was from studying rather than cases. Your mother, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and always seemed to be talking and laughing. Though she must have been at least twenty-three, she looked young and had the energy of a child. She was absolutely beautiful, with darker skin and long black hair (She was part Native American Indian, you know) and was very short. Her pregnant stomach made her look top heavy." Watari laughed, a distant look in his eyes. L watched him closely, intrigued by the new information. "She was just so excited to be a mother. She couldn't wait to meet you. Neither one of them could. They were proud of you before you were even born, L."

"What-" L's voice was hoarse with emotion and he cleared his throat, trying again, "What happened to them?" Watari frowned, his heart twisting at the sight of him slowly coming undone.

"I… I gave the two of them my card at the funeral. I told them that if they ever needed anything at all to call me and that I would do everything in my power to help. I got a phone call from them eight years later when you were just a boy. Your father had taken up a case on his own, helping one of your grandfather's old clients. He got into a little trouble and asked for a place to stay at my home in London. I made the arrangements and had all of you out within a few days. I'd offered to retrieve you from the airport but your father was insistent that he would drive you and your mother himself. He said he felt bad enough for dragging me into his problems and that he wouldn't cause me any more trouble. That… That was the last that I heard from him." Watari removed his glasses, dabbing at his eyes. He replaced his glasses to their former spot on his nose before continuing.

"There had been an accident. The car you'd been riding in crashed into a pole. The reports said that your mother and father both died almost instantly." The elder of the two, who had been looking down, noticed a sharp intake of breath, "When I arrived at the hospital, there you were- alive and well. You had a bad concussion and you wouldn't speak, but you were safe. I swore to myself that I would protect you with my life, L. And that is what I have done." There was silence and Watari was afraid to look at the detective before him. And when L did finally speak, Watari couldn't help but to flinch away at the sound of resentment in his voice.

"You knew… This whole time, you knew. The nightmares, the sleepless nights, the lies… You just let me believe that they were gone for no reason and that you had no part in it!"

"I was just trying to protect you, L! I didn't want you getting wrapped up in what your father was involved with! I-I didn't think you were ready!" Frail eyes met black pools swirling with emotions.

"Protect me? From what? And just how long were you planning on waiting to tell me? All the while you pretending to be some father who had my best interest at heart." L saw a flash of hurt in the older man's eyes and added "guilt" to the list of emotions in his own. "You had no right, Watari. I should have known. I needed to have known."

"I'm so sorry, L. I never meant to hurt you. I just needed you to be safe and I thought that I could protect you." A broken whisper left the man's lips.

"What were their names?" L's voice was uneasy, as if the intricate wall he'd built for years around his emotions was finally caving in.

"Adalyne and William Lawliet." Watari mumbled, his eyes travelling to the floor. He heard feet move silently towards the door. "She was pregnant with your little sister" Again, L's hand froze above the door knob.

"What?" L's voice sounded strangled, desperate.

"When the accident happened. She was six months pregnant. I'm so sorry. I'm so so so-"

L frantically ripped open the door and sped down the hall. His breathing was labored and he couldn't see clearly, his eyes covered in a fog of tears. He had to get out of the building- somewhere, anywhere but there. He'd had a family- whole and complete. He'd had a mother and a father and a sister on the way. Oh, how he wished he could remember their faces. How he wished that that baby's life had not been ended before it had begun.

He wasn't sure where his feet were carrying him. And in truth, he didn't care. His mind was an unfinished jigsaw- fragments of thoughts and images scattered about, nothing fitting together, nothing making any sense. Why had Watari lied to him all of those years? Who were Adalyne and William Lawliet really? Who was he? There were so many questions and no one to answer them and he had never felt so alone.

He was in such a sorry state that he barely registered that he'd stopped running and that rain was pounding all around him. It took him a moment to realize that he was on the roof of the building, staring at the sky. He didn't mind the rain, it served as a bit of a distraction- blocking out the sound of his own thoughts. That was when he heard it, above the pounding in his head and the flood of rain falling from the heavens- the bells.