New Girl

by AliceLexiMonroe

(Revised Wammy's Little Troublemaker) With only fragments left of her memory after a 'fall' off a three story building, the heroine of this story doesn't have much to go on. She's bored, trapped in a hospital bed. That is until a lovely gentleman comes to see her with an offer that could change not only her life, but the lives of many others too. OCx?

1. Introduction

Hello~

This is the edited reworking of my first Fanfiction, that I'd like to continue. I had fun writing it, and people had fun reading it :) so, without further delay (4 years is kinda enough xD), I don't own Death Note.

But I do own Poppy and any other character that isn't in death note originally. And, as always please review because it genuinely makes my day. Good or bad, gimme feedback so I can Improve.

And, if you want chapters, let me know. But uh, you'd have to read the unedited version first. And your chapter would be the next one. Hope you guys enjoy!

Also! Super shout out to the wonderful JDSnape who proof read and pointed out all my spelling errors. You should check our their stories too! I'm currently reading Devil's Children and I can't recommend it enough :)

Quick disclaimer: If you relate to this chapter at all, by which I mean, if you feel like self-harming or taking your life, Don't do it. there's always someone ready to talk to you. It's just a Google search away. Or, call a loved one. Or, whoever you want too.

Also. This story is, as of now, rated MA (18) because it covers a lot of themes not suitable for teens. But this is a guide. If you don't want to read something of this nature, go back to the search menu now :) You've been warned, kay~?

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Chapter 1-Introduction

Suffering.

Day in, Day out.

Suffering from the second I wake to the second I fall asleep. It even plagues my dreams. Why must life go on like this?

Maybe It's fate punishing me, if there was such a thing. Maybe I should just give in and find another way out?

No, That would be selfish. My existence in life is to help others. It's my purpose, one could say. At least, that's what I decided when I woke up here. Who knows if I'd ever get the chance to help anybody after waking up here.

I heaved a heavy sigh before sitting up from my curled up position. I peered around the room to look for any changes in the environment around me. Nothing new. Not that anything ever changed but it was just programmed into me to check. Here I am, still stuck in a bed designed for the sick.

I guess one could call me sick. Only on technicalities. And yet some people do. Apparently, my mind was all wrong. I had no understanding of emotions but an exceptional IQ. Irony at its finest. I can still feel emotion, but I can't put a name to them.

Not that I'd known for very long. Since I woke up the doctors have been checking my brain function. Now, to be fair to them I understand the need to check on me and make sure everything lit up properly. But why do they care if I can walk or swallow? And after a while of being poked and prodded? It gets tedious.

First, it was the Neurologists with their MRI scans and when the images came back, with what I assumed was, with something like a bruised peach they decided to send in the Psychologists with their puzzles and games. And I passed with not only flying colours, but I fell within the top 1%.

Sounds great right? I'm a genius. But it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Imagine if you could take a tumble off a jumping and you'd just get smarter every time. Everyone would be doing it. However, there are big downsides.

A slight issue? My short-term memory is a little fried, but my doctor said that it was more than likely temporary. Every day I wake up and try and remember yesterday but it's like grabbing at a hazy dream. But that's not my problem. What's more concerning than that? I didn't remember anything before waking up here. Oh. And I can't talk, and let's not even talk about the broken bones and internal bleeding.

In all honesty, I could move my mouth and make words come out. I just chose not too. Not any more.

I gave up speaking, and the doctors couldn't work out why. Emotional trauma; Is what's written on my report. Although each kind of doctor had a different theory. In reality, I wasn't sure myself. I just knew that I didn't want to talk, ever again. It served me no purpose.

I sighed again and laid back on the hospital bed. I forget why I'm hospital sometimes and then I move and I get oh so gently reminded. It turns out if you jump off the roof of a three-story building people aren't very happy with you. Well, that and it wasn't enough stories to end my misery.

One can only learn from their mistakes though, Right?

At the moment the doctors are refusing to discharge me on the grounds I might be a danger to myself and others. That struck a nerve with me. A danger to others? I often wondered what it would be like to hurt someone else, would I hurt too? If that were true, It might be the only way for me to feel but that would be so selfish. Right? But to want to hurt someone else to inflict myself with pain is both sadistic and masochistic. Plus, I'm not too sure I want to hurt. The thought keeps cropping up in the back of my mind, and it's my only way to pass the time.

My thoughts were cut short, however, because my doctor swanned into my private room. He looked surprised, if not a bit overly cheery.

He walked over to the side of my bed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before speaking, "I have some good news for you, Poppet, Your grandfather is here to take you home".

I blinked a few times and sat up properly to look the door over. Grandfather? I mean, he could be. It's not like I remember who's related to me and who isn't. This just means I'll have to be extremely careful. I don't really want to go home with a stranger.

Once I'd focused again, Dr Reese, as his name tag read, smiled reassuringly at me then gestured the man to come in.

The door opened and an older man walked in. He was wearing a suit, an old-fashioned looking hat and smart looking glasses. The man himself looked roughly late 40's early 50's, greyish white hair that was cut short as far as I could see. I had trouble seeing too far away, I needed glasses since the accident but I'll be damned if I wore them.

The man walked to the end of my bed and smiled kindly. This caused his moustache to move ever so slightly. Now that he was closer, I could make out he had kind old blue eyes that were looking at me. My eyes narrowed. This isn't the way you'd greet your missing-for-weeks-possibly-deceased-granddaughter. No, this is how you'd greet a stranger without arousing suspicion. The chances of him being related to me have fallen to around 15%. He might just be awkward.

I shifted around slightly, playing with the elastic band that was around my wrist. One of my habits to help my focus. I looked at Dr Reese. The young doctor smiled at the man and then at me. How could he not see this isn't how people acted around family? He then excused himself politely to go get the paperwork and left us alone.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my anxiety playing up again. That was another possible new perk from the fall. The gentleman watched Dr Reese go and I restrained myself from yelling at him to come back and save me. Even in danger, unless it's life or death, I don't think I'd so much as whisper.

He then turned his attention back to me and walked to the side of my bed. From here, I could see the lines on his face from exhausting himself. He's a hard worker. He gives off the impression that he's under stress too, based on the bags under his eyes but he holds himself like he's calm and relaxed while maintaining the proper posture to be respectful. He seemed like a good man. Polite.

The man took his hat off and held it to his chest with both hands. I watched him and studied him for any other indications of character while he started to speak, "I'm very sorry for impersonating one of your loved ones, It was the only way to remove you from this hospital."

He had a strong but calming voice. I couldn't pinpoint the accent as my memory was faulty. I returned some respect and looked at his mouth to usher him into continuing talking. He's not my grandfather. Alright, well, I'm terrified and intrigued. Game on.

"My name is Watari. I own an orphanage for gifted children. If it's acceptable to you, I will take you there today. You'll have your own room and live with other young people like yourself. But, we can talk more about that later. " Watari finished explaining and I pondered it for a while before nodding slightly. And here I thought hospital records were confidential. But it does sound interesting.

It didn't seem like he was lying, Watari didn't give very much away. To be fair, anything was better than staying in bed caught up with one's disappearing thoughts. The boredom was like a disease in itself.

He smiled and looked around for a wheelchair, assuming I needed one to move around. I waved my hand slightly to gain his attention and pointed to myself. He tilted his head and then pulled a notepad and pen from his pocket and held them out for me. I leaned forward and took them carefully. Someone's been studying my notes.

I wrote my question down neatly;

"What if I'm not gifted, Mr Watari?"

He seemed puzzled by the question and paused to think through his reply. "I know you are gifted. But if you're worried about your abilities we have an entrance exam of sorts so you can prove to me you are clever." Watari said softly. No pressure then.

I nodded and threw the blankets off me. I swung my legs around to get up. This made Watari take a stay back and interject, "Please don't stress yourself, Miss."

Calling me Miss was a nice touch. I shook my head and stood up, holding on to the edge of the bed. I stumbled a bit but eventually got my balance. I picked up my notepad and wrote down quickly while leaning on the bed;

"I need to say goodbye to someone before we go".

Watari looked surprised but said it was alright.

Dr Reese came back in with a wheelchair and froze in the doorway when he noticed my predicament, "Hey now, Poppet! You know you're not allowed to be up and moving for at the very least two more weeks!".

He rushed over to me, grabbed me by my shoulders and very assertively placed me in the wheelchair. That was going to hurt like a bitch from now until tomorrow. He needed to relax, but he was just starting his third shift in two days. He took the time and care to fold a light blanket over my lap.

I huffed and hid the notepad and pen under the blanket. Why was he so concerned about my health? My comfort? It made no difference to him. I decided I didn't like doctors very much... What's left of my pride doesn't want to let them help me, but I don't have a choice currently. But as people they were fine.

"My granddaughter wants to say goodbye to someone before we leave. Would that be alright?" Watari asked with a smile.

I couldn't see what was happening because the wheelchair was facing the wall but I assume the shuffling I heard what Dr Reese re-adjusting his white coat. He always did before he went to the paediatrics ward. I think he likes to look better for the kids.

"Sure, I know who Poppet wants to see," Dr Reese said chirpily and took the handles of the wheelchair and moved me out of my room to where I wanted to go.

Dr Reese and Watari exchanged small talk on the way to the children's ward. I didn't bother listening to them while I looked for my friend. I doubt my new guardian would be stupid enough to let anything slip. They mainly just discussed me and my progress anyways. Before I zoned them out, Watari made the excellent excuse that he hadn't seen me in years due to working abroad so he couldn't tell Dr Reese what I was like before the accident. I'm fairly sure that was a lie but it worked.

Butterflies were painted on the white walls and there were oversized footprints on the floor. All in bright wonderful colours. It seems to cheer the kids up if it looks brighter.

We passed a few doors and slowly the sound of giggling and shouting got increasingly louder from the room just ahead. I cracked a smile and heard Dr Reese sigh, "He's up to trouble again.. Poppet I swear, If you told him to do this...".

I gave the male doctor a glare and took that as my cue to stand up and shuffle through the door to see the disruption for myself.

"Be a good boy and at least comedown. It's not safe up there for you". One of the nurses tried ushering the boy down from up on top of his hiding spot.

I would've laughed at the sight if my sides didn't hurt so much. Two nurses were trying to convince a small boy with crazy spiked hair to get off the top of the cupboard and let them re-bandage his broken arm. He kept pulling off the casts for the first couple of weeks, but now he only had to endure bandages for the cuts and bruises.

I waved at the little boy and his grin grew wider as he climbed down from the cupboard like a monkey and ran over to hug me. It hurt, and I was more than a little winded, but I let him hug me all the same with a big smile and hid my pain. This little boy made waking up bearable.

Said little boy's name is Mickey. I called him Monkey because he loved to climb things. Well. I would if I talked.

"Hey, Poppie! How are you! I missed you!" Mickey slurred out hyperly and the two nurses looked at me in amazement. I'm going to guess they spend ages trying to coax him down. I gently ruffled Mickey's hair and shuffled us over to his bed.

Mickey giggled and hopped up on the bed while I gracelessly slumped on the mattress. Mickey put his head down on my lap like he always did and grinned up at me with his sparkly brown eyes. I could only smile back sadly. I was aware Watari was watching us from the doorway as the nurses left the room on Dr Reese's say so. I stroked Mickey's out of control hair back and out of his face, and again my better judgement, I sniffled. Mickey looked at me with confusion and then looked at the doctor, then at Watari, and he must've figured it out.

"No! You can't have my Poppie! Go away!" Mickey screamed at the two men stood in the door as he sat up and hugged me like I was going to disappear the second I was out the door.

I wrapped my arms around my little monkey and hummed quietly in his ear quietly as he started to cry. Mickey was the only one I had made a sound for. And it's a memory I haven't forgotten, thankfully. I wrote down in my notepad with some difficulty as he pinned my arms to my sides,

"Don't worry my little monkey, I'll come to visit you all the time and I'll bring to all the sweets you like, The little purple ones~"

I added a little poppy at the end. It was the name he had given to me.

*Memory Fragment*
When I first came to the hospital, I refused to stay in bed so I hauled my broken little self around until I stumbled, quite literally, into the children's ward and I saw Mickey right away.

He was refusing to let the doctors help him and I had to admit, I was impressed a little 8 years old managed to keep the doctors away. He was confused and scared. He didn't know who to trust. No one had given him anything, but everyone was asking something of him. I acted before I'd thought it through. I picked up a sweet from the bowl behind the nurse's desk and walked over. Dr Reese and two of his fellow doctors were there and I chanced that they wouldn't stop me. I was correct. Dr Reese intervened when a doctor tried to grab me and told them I was too fragile to hold. I shuffled over and offered the distressed child who was cowering under a table the purple sweetie and he smiled, wiped his nose and came out.

What surprised me is what Mickey did next, he looked around the room for something and both myself and the doctors watched this little human climb the bookshelf up to the top, without knocking anything over, and delicately picked up something. The medical staff present let their displeasure known verbally. I simply observed.

When he came back down he handed me a little poppy flower, and I have no idea where it came from to this day. He gave me the happiest smile I had ever seen and said, "Poppie! Hello poppie!".

I thought it was sweet and a few of the people present made adoring sounds. He held my hand after that, and he didn't let go for the rest of the day. Apparently, he had gotten out of his cast so the doctors were trying to apply the second cast. He was scared but I helped him breathe through it and squeezed his hand.

Afterwards, I gently took a hold of Mickey's rewrapped arm and took a marker off the table and wrote, 'My little monkey' on his new cast with a little monkey face next to it.

So ever since then, I was called Poppy by most of the staff, Poppet by Dr Reese because he knew it annoyed me and Poppie by Mickey. I smiled softly at the memory. It was a great memory, and I'm glad I kept that one. But remembering it now made me feel cold inside right now.

*End of Memory fragment*

Mickey sniffled to stop his tears and nuzzled his face into my neck. "Promise?..." Said his timid little teary voice and I nodded then held out my hand with my pinky raised.

He rested his head on my shoulder and looked at my hand then giggled while wrapping his pinky around mine.

Dr Reese came over with the new bandages and gave Mickey a chuckle, "Don't you want Poppet to sign your new bandages before she goes home, Mickey?"

I looked at Mickey to see his response and he nodded then held out his slightly shaking arm. I covered Mickey's eyes. He had told me he didn't like to see his arm because it scared him. I didn't like seeing it either. Mickey put his free hand over mine to make sure I kept his eyes covered. The blonde doctor gently took the bandages off as quickly and painlessly as he could then stopped briefly to look at Mickey's arm.

It still looked horrible. The poor boy had been here longer then I had and he hadn't told anyone what had been done to him. His broken arm was now in the last stages of healing but the bruises and jagged cuts still looked nasty. Mickey whimpered and snuggled into my side as best he could to hide away. Poor Monkey. I felt my stomach twist slightly with a pang of what didn't feel nice at all. I stopped.

Was I feeling an emotion from Mickey's pain? Oh god. My stomach twisted further as I watched Dr Reese re-dress Mickey's arm softly as to not upset Mickey. I felt sick. Hearing Mickey in pain caused me pain in my chest and made me want to cry. Dr Reese seemed to notice my grim expression and waved his hand over my face to get my attention, "Hey, It's not that bad Poppet, Breathe".

I was known to have panic attacks and to stop breathing while my brain was too busy thinking all these dark thoughts. I let out a quick shaky breath and nodded. Mickey got to his feet with no enthusiasm and hesitantly collected a marker from a cart in the corner of his room before returning to me. He looked like he was going to cry again.

I smiled for him and wrote 'My little monkey~' on his bandage. He sniffled again and hugged me tight after I was done. I dropped my head and hummed in his ear to keep him calm. I didn't feel good about abandoning Mickey, but what choice did I have?

"You'll.. *sniffle* have to come to see me on... At Christmas, and on my birthday… Oh! And on all the holidays and then… whenever you're free." Mickey listed glumly while counting on his fingers. He couldn't quite bring his eyes up to look at mine.

I felt my eyes water and I looked at Dr Reese and Watari for help. Both smiled to different degrees but both looked sombre. Great help they both are. Mickey suddenly jolted up like he'd been struck with a fork of lightning. He let go of me and jumped off the bed and raced over to his biggest 'secret spot'; behind the cupboard. It's where he kept all the things he wanted to keep the safest, he'd told me on several occasions. He shuffled through everything and was completely obvious to his three spectators. When he found what he wanted he ran back over to me.

He placed a blue folder in my lap on top of my notepad. I tilted my head and tried my best to look clueless for him. I knew exactly what it was but it always Mickey laughed when I acted silly. Mickey managed a little giggle and pointed to the folder, "Silly Poppie! It's all my drawings! Remember? I want you to have them".

I smiled widely and ruffled up Mickey's hair as a 'thank you monkey' as I discreetly wiped the corner of my eye before Mickey saw anything.

He laughed loudly as if I was tickling him. Watari cleared his throat to grab our attention,"I'm sorry to hurry you along dear but I'm afraid we need to leave soon or we'll miss your grandmother's cooking"

A gentle lie. The man was certainly kind. I nodded and kissed Mickey's forehead then hugged him one last time. Dr Reese brought the wheelchair over to the side of the bed for me then helped me into it.

"Hey Mickey, If you want too you can wave goodbye from the reception area downstairs," The young doctor said with a happy ring to his voice and Mickey perked up instantly. I shot Dr Reese a smile to thank him. For a little while longer he'd be smiling.

"Yay! Only if I get to ride with Poppie in the wheelie chair!" I smiled at the small boy's demand and moved the folder and notepad off my lap for him to sit.

Mickey sat on my lap quietly and I wrapped my arms around him. Watari smiled at us and put his hat back on to offer to hold my things for me. I handed them over carefully and watched Watari put them under his arm. I kept my eyes locked on the folder for a while, hoping he'd understand the importance of it and he wouldn't damage them. It didn't take Watari long to put his other hand on the side of the folder and I nodded slightly.

I focused on Mickey as he started chatting about how I needed to watch his favourite cartoon every morning, and other odd but cute things. The energy was slowly coming back to his voice. Dr Reese pushed us to the main gate entrance of the hospital while Watari followed quietly.

We stopped rolling forward and Mickey slowly got off my lap. He turned and looked at me, pulling at his sleeves as he wasn't sure what to do. Never have I wanted to jump off a tower block more in my life. I took a deep breath and smiled, and I think Mickey noticed and tried to do the same.

Mickey tried to stay brave. He really did. All he did was say goodbye in a small quivering voice and he broke us both down into tears. I snapped him up in my arms and held his head to my shoulder so he couldn't see my tears. He, in turn, gripped handfuls of my shirt and wailed loudly against me. This isn't fair.

Dr Reese stepped in and kneeled down to take Mickey's hand. Mickey resisted but after a few tugs he let go of me completely and hugged Dr Reese side but he never stopped crying. The doctor gave me a sympathetic look and nodded to Watari to wheel me out now.

So he did. There was a car waiting for us at the front of the hospital. I couldn't see the type through my wavering vision. Watari wheeled me right up to the car and opened the door for me. I threw myself into the back seat while frantically wiping away my tears. I never wanted to feel this way again. It hurt! So much. All the paper in the notepad wouldn't be enough to describe it. I blinked away fresh tears and held my hands out for the folder. Watari passed it and the notepad to me and then closed the door.

He disappeared for a short while. I assume he was returning the wheelchair to the doctor and my little monkey. I opened the folder and looked at the first picture with a sad smile.

It was one that I and Mickey had done together in the first week of getting to know each other. I drew a monkey's head in a chibi form and Mickey drew a poppy as best he could.

I couldn't help but feel cold inside for leaving Mickey behind. My heart literally felt heavy. Maybe I was dying. It wasn't a logical guess but I think it was reasonable to think death hurt this much. Whatever this emotion was called, I wanted no part of it.

I pulled out the notepad and wrote jotted down my question, I had to know.

"What is this feeling called!? It hurts so much. I feel like my heart is being ripped apart.

Please Watari, tell me! "

Watari opened the driver's door and he turned to look at me as he put on his seatbelt.

I held up my notepad for him to see and he smiled almost sadly with a big sigh. Even his voice trembled just a small bit before he levelled out, "Oh my dear… I'll try my best to explain. It's not as simple as one emotion. You're feeling a lot of things at once. Sadness. Guilt. Heartbreak. Loss."

I waited with a hard look for him to continue. I had to learn this and remember. Watari continued, "And they're all things that hurt on their own. You don't want to leave him here alone. And seeing that little lad upset could make anyone feel sad. But for the moment? You should remember that you can visit him whenever you like once you're settled in. And he's in a safe place. I'll see if I can make some arrangements to have him join you. But for now, just relax and let's get you to your new home. It's quite a drive so feel free to take a nap"

I nodded and leaned back into my seat. My body ached all over with a throbbing pain. I was acting tough for the sake of Mickey and I ignored it as best I could but I was really in agony. I gritted my teeth and tried to breathe through the pluses. Black blurs clouded my vision and I blinked several times to rid myself of them. My eyes felt progressively heavier and heavier until I was fighting to keep them open. If this man wasn't who he said he was then I may never see my little monkey again. This is the last thought as I drifted into blank dreamless sleep.

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First editing session is done! My eyes actually do feel really heavy now though. But, as it says in the original. I don't know where this story is going but I will lay out some ground rules. Yes, Kira will be in this. I'm not sure in what capacity as I'd like to stick as close as I can to the original, but I don't want certain people to die. ~ so, I'm not sure yet. I'm sure he'll still be everyone's favourite serial killer. But I'm going to say that, if he does join my little death note universe, it will be miles in the future. At my moment? We're starting from Wammy's house while L is being three of the world's greatest detectives. And, I'm going to start a new poll seeing as I'm tweaking the story as I edit. So, which pairing will win out?

Also, I'm going to give a really rough estimate of everyone's ages. Ready?

A-24

BB-23

L-23

Matt-18

Mello-17

Near- 17

'Poppy'- 18ish (will confirm her age when her birthday is ever confirmed)

Thank you for reading the newly revised version, and please let me know what you thought of it with a review :) if I can make it better for you, I want to know.

-Alice