I don't own Death Note or it's characters!

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Near sat with his puzzle on the ground.

Thousands of pieces.

Mere seconds to complete.

Then she walked in.

Sam was his age, young at fifteen. But she was more emotional than him. She was friendly, and intelligent. Her heart was pure, good and honest. Best of all, she chose Near over Mello.

It gave Near a small sense of pride, a small sense of worth. It made him feel like he held another thing above Mello's head.

He had never been much into the competition with Mello. Yes, he had been intrigued, and yes, he had wanted to be the next L, like every other child at Wammy's, but he had never cared for Mello. He had never been jealous, or angry, or vengeful. Mello was destructive. That's how Mello lost Sam. With emotion, with pride, with hate, with jealousy, with anger, with sorrow. Near hadn't understood it fully. Emotion is what Sam always complained Mello never had, and yet, the boy had been brimming with it. It fell out of his mouth, his eyes, his gestures. Hell, if it were one of those animated television shows, he would've had emotional steam blowing from his ears.

But Sam was always hard to understand. This puzzle was no match for her. Near still didn't fully understand her, didn't fully accept her reasoning. It frightened him slightly, that he couldn't make sense of her. He couldn't make her and her decisions, her mind, logical.

"Near?"

Near looked up.

She smiled down at him.

"Hey."

She sat beside him, looking at the puzzle.

She crossed her legs, resting her elbows on her knees, staring thoughtfully at it.

Near studied her silently as she decided what to say, how to say it, when to say it.

Her tawny hair skimmed her shoulders, her bright blue eyes staring at the puzzle. They were cloudy, thought and an unrecognizable emotion apparent in the midst of the watery blue of her irises. She was wearing a white and black baseball-styled shirt, and shorts with a white and black checkered print. The ends rested on her upper thighs, exposing the creamy flesh of her long legs. Her feet were bare, something Near found common in their time together. She only wore socks if she was in her pajamas, readying herself to retire to her room. Her hands were brushing together lightly, making little sounds, sounds that would sound comforting if not for the fact she had bitten her bottom lip, staring with even more intensity at the puzzle. Near swore she was going to cry, going to scream, going to jump up and kick the puzzle across the room.

But she didn't.

She merely watched and waited, as if it was finally Near's turn to instigate a conversation.

"How are you, Samantha?"

Sam looked up, surprise in her eyes.

Relaxing, she shrugged, a lingering sadness in her eyes.

"I'm fine. You?"

Near looked at her.
"No you aren't."

Sam looked down.

"I should stop trying to trick you, huh?"

Near studied her, flipping the puzzle piece in his hand. He set it on the ground. Twirling a strand of hair around a nimble finger, he nodded. Sure enough, she didn't see him. So he inconveniently had to speak.

"Yes."

Sam was quiet.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Sam shook her head, tears almost betraying her.

"I don't want to bother you, Near, you have enough on your mind."

Near looked down at her hands. She had gripped them together, her knuckles pale white with the stress of force.

"Please tell me what's wrong, Samantha."

It was a question, but it was also a statement. Gentle but stern.

Sam looked up.

"Near, it's not important. Besides, you need to focus."

"If you cared about my focus, you would know that I'm taking a break right now. On top of that, you wouldn't have come in to talk to me. You would've been cold and left me alone. But knowing you, you kindly walked in to keep me company, fearing I was growing lonely. Now can you please tell me what's wrong, Samantha? We both know you're going to eventually, so we should acknowledge this as fact and move on from there."

Sam looked away, straightening slightly, but still slouched.

"I keep having nightmares, and they're just bugging me, okay? Like I said, it's not important."

"It's important enough for you to feel like you have to hide yourself from me when we're alone together in a room."

Sam glanced at him, and looked down.

"I suppose, yeah."

Near felt like smiling.

No matter how intelligent she was, no matter how composed, confident and mature she could be, deep down she was still young, still childish. Very naïve.

"Are you going to tell me why they bug you?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Near."

Another smile almost escaped.

"Then stop trying to prolong your answering."

Sam closed her eyes.

"They just terrify me, okay? I don't know why. I wake up screaming half the time. The other half I'm crying. I don't remember the last time I had a normal dream. They're always these nightmares. I don't feel safe anymore, not while I sleep."

Near looked at the puzzle piece, and then at Sam. Her hair was thin and light.

He grabbed it, and moved closer to her, his body pressed lightly against hers. Pushing her hair back with the puzzle piece, he secured it behind her ear. Near let his hand linger. It felt… right. Reasonable. Like he was supposed to do something like that with Sam. Sam was still, her eyes widened in surprise.

Her hand found his, and she held it gently, in case he wanted to remove it from her grasp. Near kept his hand there, somewhat excited to see where this might go. This was new, and fragile. Sam's eyes closed, a little smile coming to her lips.

"Thank you, Near."

Near's heart was beating faster.

This was new, and fragile.

"You've got a beautiful face. I don't appreciate it when you hide from me."

Her eyes opened, but Near's face was somehow softer, filling lightly with colorful emotion.

She smiled.

"I'm sorry."

Near looked at her hand, and noticed scars on her thin wrist.

He didn't want to ask. It was an intrusion, he knew that much. He understood that much of her.

The other thing he understood was the fact that he liked touching her being close to her, feeling her around him, feeling her presence, hearing her voice, knowing she'd never leave him.

Her skin was soft, as was her touch.

Near regretted pulling away instantly, but he didn't move his body away from hers. There was so much he wanted, so much to discover. So many puzzling things that he was painfully aware of, but never knew he could experience, could feel as a human being.

As a man.

Near looked into her eyes.

"Why did you choose me, Samantha, over Mello?"

Sam's smile was gone.

"I wanted to help you, Near."

"That isn't the only reason."

Sam looked away.

"What do you want to hear from me? What do you want from me, Near?"

Near looked into her face, the puzzle piece somehow, amazingly, still holding back her hair.

"The truth. The entire, honest truth."

Sam looked at him. His voice was soft. It was gentle. It was a question, hidden as a statement. Entirely and fully gentle, nothing more.

"I loved you, Near. It was always you."

"Has that changed?"

Anticipation laced his words.

Sam readied herself for his rejection, for the humiliation of being fully shattered and broken.

"No."

Sam looked away.

"Not ever."

Then it happened. It all started to unfold.

Near had Sam pinned on the ground in a flurry of limbs.

He stared into her eyes.

Kissing her, he let his instinct take over. He let logic leave his mind momentarily, allowing nothing more than animalistic desire consume him.

Sam was shocked, small and little under Near's body. She tried pushing him away, but he wouldn't let her.

"Don't."

He whispered it slowly in her ear, quietly, gently.

As rough as he seemed, it was gentle. Always for her.

Sam let Near kiss her body, all over. She let him run his fingers through her hair, down her neck, over her small, round breasts, down her taut stomach, over her hips, up and down her thighs. Sam let him explore her body. Sam let him do whatever he wanted, just basking in the possibility that this seemingly emotionless child felt something – even if just mere attraction – for her.

Near's lips fumbled with hers. His hand wasn't shaking, but Sam knew his mind was.

Her hands were tangled in his hair, and laid on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, enjoying every tingling trail Near left on her body.

His hands yanked her shirt up, revealing more than Sam was comfortable showing. A hot blush came to her face and she looked at Near awkwardly. She didn't know how to say no to Near. She just couldn't do it.

He got the pesky garment of clothing off of the small girl's body, and he began undoing her shorts. He pulled them down, his hands brushing the sensitive skin on her legs as he did so. Sam let out a pressed moan, trying to show Near in desperation that this was too far, too much for Sam to accept.

Near slipped out of his own clothing. Sam didn't look at him. She was terrified. Would Near really do this to her? Would he ignore her feelings and just take her without consent, without any form of permission whatsoever?

He pressed himself against Sam's cold body. He was warm. Sam looked into his eyes. She couldn't tell him.

But he knew. He desperately wanted to stop hurting her. But he couldn't. They both wanted this. Maybe not right now, but it was sure as hell going to happen right now. Near slid himself out of his underwear and rubbed against her, allowing himself to moan into Sam's ear.

He felt a cold moisture on his temple. He looked at Sam. She was crying.

Cursing himself, Near hid himself again, pushing away from the person he had frightened so terribly.

Sam sat up, facing away from Near, silently sobbing, hugging her legs to her half-exposed body. She was terrified, ashamed, disgusted. At first, when he was just touching her, showing her he wanted something, she had enjoyed it. But when he tried to take it, when he almost forced it out of her… she lost something. Whether it be for him or not, she didn't know.

But then a hand found her shoulder, and Near's legs were around her, his arms snaking around her waist. His cheek was on her back, resting against her awkwardly. Sam felt safer.

She was confused. Had it been for him, or just for the moment?

"I won't ever let go, Samantha."

The words were soft, gentle, barely audible.

A tear fell onto her bare back, down her shoulder.

Near was crying. For her. Over her. Over what he almost did to her.

Sam wrapped her arms around his.

"You should've asked."

It wasn't angry or broken, her statement. It was simple.

"I love you, Samantha."

Silence.

"I think."

Sam let out a chuckle.

"That's all I could ever ask for, Near."

Lips found her shoulder, her neck, her ear.

"May I?"

His hand slipped upwards, finding a clothed breast.

Sam nodded, and moaned as he kissed her neck, roaming his hands along her body. It slipped downwards, in between her thighs.

"May I?"

A simple stroke and Sam's head tilted back, resting on Near's shoulder, a moan escaping her lips, shamelessly.

Near slipped his hand inside her underwear, bringing her to release in a matter of minutes.

He flipped Sam onto her back, positioning himself above her.

Looking into her eyes, he breathlessly asked her.

"May I?"

Sam saw everything in those eyes. She saw light, hope, faith, love. Near. She saw herself with him. She saw herself standing with him, holding him, being with him for as long as she could.

Sam brought Near's lips to hers, and he took her.

It was a heated tangle of limbs, passion and lust.

It was everything Sam thought she wasn't ready for.

It was safe, because it was him.

It had been for the moment.

Nothing had broken, nothing had gotten lost.

Just undiscovered.