Hello there. For those who may be following along with my Near/Sayu series, this fic is an alternative ending/continuation of Gray Areas. However, it can also be read as a standalone. I am planning 3-4 chapters to this, but that is it. Someone asked for this - I gave it some thought for a while and this is what I have come up with. It is rated T for now, but I may change that later on - probably not, but I am not entirely closing off the possibility.

I may add more author's notes later, but I kind of just want to get on with it for now. :P I hope you enjoy it! :3

Near forced himself to take measured, even strides as he made his way up the stairs towards Sayu's apartment. It was December the last time he had seen her. It was now nearing the end of March, and in the interim, he had started and solved no less than two dozen cases, including one extremely high-profile case that had, incidentally, involved a death note. He had traveled to and through at least half as many countries and spoken to just as many police organizations in that time. He had built, torn apart, and rebuilt his Tarot card towers in many great forms during the last few weeks as well. And in that time, he and Sayu had barely exchanged a word, not since their last conversation more than five weeks prior.

The thought that he would be getting to see her again left him feeling nervous as he knocked on her door. He unfortunately could not help the vision of her from the last time he had visited. She had greeted him in a most luscious way, dressed only in a nightie that left very little to the imagination - not that he had had much time or need to employ his imagination, because the frock had been removed and forgotten about shortly thereafter. They had spent two unforgettable days together in her apartment, venturing out seldomly and only to get something to eat before returning to each other's company.

Such memories were vanquished in flash when the door slowly opened, revealing a very different version of the Sayu he had grown quite fond of, but he felt his breath quicken just the same. She was there, Sayu, just the way he had pictured her in his mind's eye every day since their last conversation five weeks ago. Everything about her was still just as lovely and radiant as he remembered, except for her smile. It was not warm and inviting - in fact, she was hardly smiling at all. What she did offer him was a tiny, cordial tug of the corner of her lips in lieu of a smile. He felt reluctant to return even that, so he dropped his gaze downward, as he usually found himself doing in such awkward situations, and his eyes instead absorbed her choice of wardrobe.

She was dressed in very plain, oversized clothes, which wasn't exactly atypical of her when it came to lounging around, but it still clashed in his mind with the way she had greeted him the last time he saw her. It spoke of distance, of barriers, almost as if she was using it as a kind of shield between them, or something to hide herself behind. It reminded him very much of the fact that there were still unspoken, unexpressed thoughts and secrets between them, something which he anticipated would be a part of their discussion that afternoon.

"Well, you don't have to stand out there," she said, moving to the side to allow his entry. "Come in."

He swallowed involuntarily as he crossed the threshold, and as he looked upon her once more, he wanted very much to gather her up in his arms, bury his face into the crook of her neck, and inhale every essence of her that he could. But he knew that such actions would not be accepted nor appreciated. He instead awaited her cue for what to do next and followed her to the sofa, where he watched as she stiffly lowered herself onto the cushions. There were no words exchanged between them at this time, but he understood that he was to sit with her, albeit not too close. He chose to leave one section of the sofa open between them.

At this point, he was finding it difficult to decide if he should look up at her or continue looking down at his legs as they dangled over the edge of her sofa and rested upon the floor. It was easier to not meet her gaze, but the decision was soon made for him when she said his name.

He lifted his gaze and met hers squarely, an action which felt uncomfortable to him, so much so that he made a grab for his hair. He saw a small tug at the corner of her lips, as if she wanted to smile, but then she stopped herself by taking in a breath.

"How, um... How have your cases been?"

Small talk - something that was not his forte, but he supposed he could go along with it for now, until she felt comfortable broaching the subject of his visit.

"Fine."

"I saw your broadcast... The killer has been stopped?"

"He has not been formally brought to justice, no, but the killings have ceased."

"Good. That's good," she said with a nod. "Well, not good that he hasn't been caught, but good that he has stopped killing..." There was a short, awkward pause in which Near could tell that talking about his cases was definitely not what she wanted to talk about. "And, um.. how about Halle and the others? How have they been?"

"They have been doing well, thank you."

"And you?" she breathed, and then seemed to think twice about her question, because she hastily added, "I guess that's kind of a stupid question, considering..." Near forced himself not to react to the truth of her statement. Eventually, his lack of response drew out further inquiry from her, "Are you going to talk to me?"

"I assumed that you would want to talk first. Am I wrong in my assumption?"

"No, it's just-..." she said, taking in another small breath, "This is harder than I thought it would be."

Near wanted to offer her a smile, but he failed to execute the action as he twisted his hair even more tightly around his forefinger. It was obvious that she wanted him to say something, but he was not entirely sure how to proceed at that point. He was torn between delving right into everything they had discussed during their last "conversation", for lack of a better way of putting it, and pretending it had never happened. He knew that, after everything that had been said between them - not to mention her ire and feelings of betrayal - she would not let it go, though, which was why he was finding her current behavior curious. After all but telling him she wanted nothing more to do with him and after five weeks of living up to that declaration, he was certain she had not invited him over to engage in small talk. It was therefore strange to him that she was not discussing the topic he was sure she had wanted to discuss. On top of that, she was acting strangely subdued. There had to be another reason for calling and wanting to see him in person after breaking up with him. If it was just to discuss Light, and Near's involvement in his case, he was sure she would have launched right into it. No, something else was subduing her, causing her to hesitate.

Distance. Barriers. Circumventing. Hesitation. She was was dancing around a subject, and it was neither their nixed relationship nor the events leading up to it. His eyes strayed back over to her and the pieces all at once fell together, the answer becoming clear.

"I see why you wanted to talk to me in person," he said as he dropped his gaze away from hers and he tugged hard on a lock of hair. "Telling me over the phone that you are pregnant would have been difficult."

The silence between them was thick and almost suffocating at first, but then he heard a heavy sigh come from her, one that sounded like she might start crying. He could not tell if it was because she had not expected him to discover her secret or if it was the blunt way he had brought it out into the open (although it was likely both). Either way, even as she let out another wavering sigh, he could not bring himself to look at her, not until she responded.

"I-... I was trying to think of a way to tell you..."

"How many weeks?"

"Eleven."

Eleven. Eleven weeks. Eleven weeks ago she had conceived. That would put it right around the time they had last physically been together, so the time frame certainly matched up. But something else was nagging at him...

"I thought you were on birth control."

"I was. It must have failed. Obviously it failed," she said, looking down at herself and squeezing her eyes shut in shame and distress.

Failed. Her birth control had failed? Could that even happen? He supposed it could, but it seemed highly unlikely. It was so unlikely that he could not help but ask further questions.

"Did you ever miss a dose?"

"No, of course not."

"What about the week before I visited, when you were sick. Were you taking antibiotics?"

"For God's sake, will you cut out the detective crap for right now?" she snapped, "What does it matter how it happened? Point is that it happened and that's why I called you."

"Right," he mumbled in frustration. Frustration was really the least of it, but it was the only thing he could fully grasp at the moment. How had this happened? She had assured him that her birth control would be enough, and now-...

He was frustrated further when he realized that his face felt quite warm. Surely, he wasn't blushing - was he?

"What, do you think I am lying to you or something?" Sayu groused, her arms now folded across her chest.

"No."

Sayu pushed out another sigh - a heated one this time - and then grimaced and shifted in her seat. Near caught a glimpse of this out the corner of his eye and quietly asked, "Are you in pain?"

"Just some cramping," she grouchily admitted, "But I hear that's normal."

"Right."

"So..." she began again after a moment, "Obviously the circumstances are not ideal-.."

Near almost let out a scoff. The circumstances were not ideal? That was putting it lightly.

"..-But.." she went on, "I felt you had the right to know, in spite of-... everything."

In spite of everything... Again - putting it lightly.

"Please, just-... say something."

But Near could not think of anything to say, not right at that moment and especially not while being prompted. This was not the first time he had been rendered into silence by Sayu, but this whole situation was drawing from him a new, different kind of stupor.

It was entirely frustrating.

Well, he supposed there was no point in trying to make something up. "I am not sure what to say," he finally admitted.

"Say whatever you like, just say something."

More silence. And then-..

"Nate."

Near bit down on the inside of his cheek and said, "Are you going to keep it?"

"That's, um.. That's another thing," she said, letting out a loud sigh. "It's-.. There are two of them."

"Huh?" he said in a lameness that was most uncharacteristic of him, his eyes widening by a fraction.

"There are two of them - twins," she explained, "Believe me, I was just as surprised as you..."

"Very well, then," he mumbled, blinking away the worst of his surprise and tugging on a lock of hair with a particular roughness. First her birth control fails, and now she's carrying twins? What kind of absurd set of unlikely circumstances was this? "Are you keeping them?"

"Yes, I think I am. I went back and forth about it a lot at first, but now I am sure I will be keeping them."

Near responded with a single nod, both acknowledging and respecting her decision, but he otherwise said nothing.

"And what about you?" she said, regaining his attention. "What do you want?"

"It is not my decision to make."

"Of course it is," she said, her brow furrowing, "You're the father - you have just as much say in this as I do."

Near paused in the middle of twisting a strand around his forefinger and was still for a moment before resuming his actions. "I don't," he repeated.

"You do," she said with vehemence. "Just because we broke up-.. doesn't mean that you don't have a choice."

"You have already decided that you will be keeping them, so exactly what choices are you giving me?"

"Whether or not you want to be involved in their lives."

In their lives, but not hers. Feeling more frustrated than ever, and before he could stop himself, he said, "Where does this leave us?"

Sayu bit down on her bottom lip, looking troubled, and Near wished he could stop the assault of more pleasant memories associated with that action. "I don't know, Nate," she said, the sound of her voice sweeping aside the memories in his mind and replacing them with a growing disquiet. "I want to forgive you - I really do - but I don't know if I can."

Near felt something inside of himself tremble. He desperately wanted to ask her why, why couldn't she forgive him when he had explained himself as thoroughly as he could to her? Why couldn't she forgive him when all his reasons and explanations made perfect sense? Even his team had backed him up on everything - well, mostly, except for Lidner, who was sometimes annoyingly skilled at playing devil's advocate. But in any case, if his team could understand, why couldn't Sayu?

"I don't really want to talk about that right now. I didn't call you here to talk about that anyway. Like I said, I felt that you had the right to know as the babies'-.. as their father."

There was that word again. Father. How could he be anybody's father? His whole life was detective work. Not just any detective work, but performing as the World's Greatest Detective and all the responsibilities that came along with the role. And not only that, he was well aware of his own mental and social handicaps - not that he usually cared how they affected him or other people around him, but he was aware of them all the same.

And Sayu knew all of this. She knew all of this about him, and yet she had chosen to be with him - until recent events, anyway. If she knew about all of his emotional limitations, then how could she possible expect him to measure up to being a father in any way? She had said that he had the right to know, but that was it. She hadn't given him any ultimatums. She hadn't given him any suggestions. She wasn't even really giving him a choice at this point. She said he had a choice, but then she had already made all her choices, except for the one involving their relationship. What was left for him to decide if she had already decided to keep the babies? How could she expect him to give a clear answer as to where he wanted to be in all this? And for that matter, what exactly was she expecting of him? To be a provider? To see the kids on weekends and go out to amusement parks? Was she harboring some kind of fanciful vision that he would step out of his role as L, marry her, and they would run away together and live with their children on a sandy beach somewhere? Exactly what kind of future was she seeing and what his part in it?

Near had no problem being honest with himself - for a myriad of reasons, in no future of his did he ever envision himself having children. It was simply unfathomable. But how could he be honest with Sayu about the same thing? How could he possibly communicate everything to her in a meaningful way? What was he supposed to do now, knowing that in approximately 29 weeks, she would be having his children, with or without him? What was he supposed to make of that? How was he supposed to feel that his opinion in the matter held any amount of significance?

"Nate, please say something. Tell me what you are thinking."

Tell her what he was thinking? She didn't really want to know that. Just like the truth about her brother - she claimed she would have wanted to know the truth from the very beginning and yet she still refused to see the negative impact it had (would always have) on her life. What made her think that she would want to know what he was really thinking? She had already proven during their argument five weeks ago that she couldn't understand, much less handle, his thoughts. She certainly had not listened to him then - why would she listen to him now? If he told her what he was really thinking, she definitely wouldn't want anything to do with him then. Why would either of them want that?

Besides, his thoughts were both running wild and completely useless at the moment. They did nothing to change the fact that they were broken up, that she was pregnant, and that he was being left with a handful of cards that did not play well together.

"Say anything. Tell me you're scared, if you are. I'm scared, too, believe me."

Scared? No, he was not scared. He wasn't really sure what he was at the moment. He felt pinned down and frustrated and about a hundred other things he dare not touch upon right now, but he definitely wasn't scared.

"So... I take it you aren't going to talk to me," she sighed at last, after her failed attempts at prompting him. She pressed her lips together firmly, an action which caught his attention. It was a look on her that he ordinarily found quite endearing - one she usually wore when she was about to speak her mind about something. His eyes moved away again, knowing what was coming next, but unable to say or do anything to stop it. "Maybe you should just go for now, then... You probably need to talk things over with your team either way."

His team... For fuck's sake, how was he supposed to explain any of this to them? And now his thoughts were channeling Mello and his potty mouth - just what he needed.

Without a word or any idea of how to handle the situation, Near stood, remained still for a moment, and then shuffled his way across her living room and towards the exit. Before he reached the door, he heard Sayu's voice behind him, "Nate?"

He paused and turned towards her, just enough to cast her a sidelong glance. Even then, in that moment with so much uncertainty between them, she was still nothing less than beautiful to him. He wished that simply saying as much would have an effect on what had become of their relationship, but he doubted it would.

"Will you at least call me? Please?"

It took him a moment to respond while he watched her quietly, but when he finally did, it was in the form of a single nod.

"When?"

"Soon," he finally said, his voice sounding coarse and foreign to himself, "Through our usual channel."

Sayu looked back at him, again looking like she was about to cry, and then steeled herself and returned his nod. He then removed himself from her presence, hating the fact that he was leaving with far more questions than answers, hating even more that for all his experiences, he could never be as strong as she was.