A Space So Wide Both Near and Mello Can Fit In It Chapter 2, a death note fanfic

A/N: Well, a gigantic chapter to all of my reviewers. I swear, more people for this than any of my other stories … apparently I've stumbled on to something, here. Well, knock yourself out. I very nearly did with this much writing. I dedicate this chapter to all my reviewers (obviously), to Emery Board for asking about Raito's appearance (which I put in a few of), and to the fair A (.Wrong/Micah if you'd like to sift through the reviews) for actually getting on the computer again and reviewing, because she's been AWOL all week.

With that in mind, I'll have fun using her in the disclaimer that I imagined last night in a sleep-deprived haze …

Disclaimer: (A and N are sitting randomly in a random science class)

A: "Uh … N … why are we in science?"

N (Shifts uncomfortably): "Because of your name and, um, because I thought it would be mildly educational for our dear readers. What do you think Meiosis gone wrong looks like, anyway?"

(Both turn simultaneously to stare at Ryuk)

Ryuk (Holding canister of fruit flies, shaking itslightly from time to time and tilting his head in bemusement): "What are these, N?"

N (Still nonplussed): "Uh … fruit flies."

Ryuk: "Like apples? So I can eat them? Do they taste like apples?" (Shakes jar a bit)

N (Looking either a little squeamish or positively ill, depending on how kind a mood you're in): "No, Ryuk … they're called fruit flies because they eat fruits like apples."

Ryuk (Angry now): "No freaky bugs are going to eat my apples!"

(A and N watch riveted as Ryuk begins to torture the fruit flies, popping them and tearing off their legs and wings and watching them flop aimlessly on the table and then swatting them with his Death Note)

A (Also green): "Now I'm glad I don't own Death Note, because it would have meant coming up with someone like him."

N: "Agreed. Absolutely."

Near huddled uncomfortably on the chair in waiting as Matt argued with the guy at the ticket counter, at the same time keeping a hand on Mello and eyeing him meaningfully every time the black-clothed blonde looked ready to bubble over. "Look, sir, I realize that we need parental permission, but our parents already left the airport and online we're completely registered, so really –"

"I'm afraid there are no exceptions," the snooty guy said, lips curled into a tight, supercilious line as he looked down at the redhead. Near looked over at the matronlike, plump brunette manning the other line and calculated the success percentages if they had gotten her instead – a clear thirty percent above. This person clearly had matching inferiority and superiority complexes, as well as being a borderline perfectionist and a dislike of children that no doubt extended to the animal kingdom as well, most likely caused by a dislike of rude questions and uncleanliness or possibly some sort of childhood trauma. Generally Near would be ecstatic – well, as much as he ever was, anyway – at a chance to actually put his hard-learned skills to use in the outside world, but now they had to get on the flight and there was no time for analysis. His first venture a failure? His and Mello's? Ridiculous. L wouldn't fail this. His successors should do no worse.

Near steeled himself, having predicted the behavior of people for all of his life but still unused to leaving himself exposed and actually emulating it, and got up, shuffling his way over to Matt and Mello in his cumbersomely tight sneakers and rough jeans, manipulating his facial features to make sure they didn't look too awkward as he did this, after having steeled his face to be an emotionless mask for so long.

"Nea – Nate?" Matt corrected himself hastily as he approached, making up for it by giving him a nickname. He didn't notice the tiniest of flinches Near gave at the sound of his true name, but the bored Mello did and wondered what that was about. Got used to the sound of his new name, did he? Had a problem with Matt's obsessive need to nickname everything? "What are you doing over here? We were just finishing up."

"Hmph," the attendant who look like he had something lodged up his ass since his sad, misbegotten birth sniffed, staring down disapprovingly at his best friend's head – as if that sorry bastard who's mother had probably committed adultery with a rich, fat, ugly sultan, his eunuchs, the harem wives, the silk cushions, and the alligator served at that night's feast! He could guess which one this guy came from!

And then, before Mello's startled eyes, Near seemed to change, change from the impartial, intelligent first of Wammy's and turn into a cute, wide-eyed, miniscule teddy bear child. His lower lip wobbled just the tiniest bit as he stared up at the man – giving him a position of authority – with his eyes, that seemed to have swelled a bit, and said quietly, "I was growing worried, Matt" – they'd decided Matt could keep his nickname, as it was such a common one and Mello didn't think he'd respond to anything else – "when you and Michael didn't come back over right away like you said you would." Mello felt a little chill run down his spine at the sound of his almost-real name – maybe that was Near's problem? Hah, the possibilities … "What's wrong?"

The clerk, however, blinking a few seconds through his daze, seemed largely undeterred. "Well, young man," he began severely, "it seems that you and your brothers have no written parental consent to be on this plane, and so I am not legally enabled to dispense your tickets. Are they perhaps around, or was your red-headed foster brother perhaps telling the truth, though it would seem to slip so few times from between his lips?" Mello bristled at this guy's self-satisfied smile, having tried to pin down the character of his Matt with no cause and no authority. So what if he was lying? There was good reason, and there was no sure as hell way their parents were in the airport. Hell, they were supposed to be foster brothers! How would they have parents then?

Suddenly, Mello had the story. He put a protective, brotherly hand on Near's shoulder – maybe a bit tighter than was called for by the small boy's uncomfortable twitch, but hey, he'd only claimed to be a Catholic, not a saint – tried to project a serious and responsible attitude, and said, "Sorry about this, Nate. Matt just doesn't like to explain. He told you we're foster brothers, Mr. Trenson, right? Well, we don't have parents, and right now we're heading to an orphanage that has agreed to take us in. But only one caretaker could be spared to see us to the airport and they left already – there's a lot of kids to look after and she didn't have much time to spare. If we don't get on the plane the tickets will go to waste and there most likely isn't money for new ones – and we'd kinda be stuck here. I'm really sorry to ask you for an exception …"

The guy seemed to be swaying. Near, picking up on Mello's mental encouragement through some kind of subconscious link (not that he'd want one with Near, Near or all people – hell no), looked at Mello then, asking piteously, "We won't be able to … go? But Sally promised I would …"

Sally? Mello internally snorted as the guy started to protest, being cut off by the brunette at her now-empty counter as she leaned across and chided him, "It's obvious they aren't lying, Chris! Not all children are spawn of Satan, you know. Come over here and I'll help you, dears. And Chris won't say anything about it, or I'll know the reason why."

Near blinked up at her and managed a tiny smile, inwardly jubilant – his and Mello's ruse had worked! Strange … I never thought we would work so well together … He shook the thought free.

Matt, also, didn't fail to notice the thoughts passing between the two. Something's going on there … He offered up a harmless grin as he walked back to fetch their bags, purely in besting that guy and being on their way, if Mello or anyone else asked. Perhaps Matt, the newly-christened "love-doctor," would have something to do with it. Though Mello had looked cute, going all responsible and shit … and the way teddy-bear Near said his name … hmm. Maybe this wasn't such a good line of thought to take during the execution of a plan.

Aw, what the hell. Who says genii can't be cute?

L had followed the steps of his wards from the start, tracing them from the taxi driver who had stopped at the house to the funds diverted but not concealed from the Wammy's account and used to purchase three plane tickets from Japan. He had decided not to bother investigating at the orphanage and made Watari book a flight there instead; deciding that there was no point in reconfirming the facts. L did mean to start an investigation, though, when this was over. This could merely be the genius equivalent of a childish tantrum, and he wouldn't put it past Mello to do that nor Matt to follow him, but if Near had ... there may be something more seriously wrong with the curriculum than he realized. God knows, not that L believed in any god, that he wanted no one to grow up like he had …

L turned away from the window with a sigh far too small for Watari, the pilot, to hear all the way in the front compartment, turning back to the laptop in front of him that he had configured to do the L commands even without a more enhanced system of backup. It was a long flight, after all, and never let it be said that L shirked a case. The black-haired insomniac reached for his coffee and the sugar cubes, eyes already riveted on the new details, determined that the case would be wrapped up a full half an hour before the plane touched down … he'd stake his solving of his heirs' trail on it.

For was he not L?

And then he'd see about whatever cases Japan had to offer. Hmm … he'd heard things about someone actually competent there …

Yagami Raito, the NPA's star detective, sat down at his desk and looked at the latest stack of reports. A new suspicious murder heading the stack jumped out at him immediately – apparently the victim, Takahashi Eichi, had been knifed to death and severely beaten while alone in his penthouse apartment, remaining undiscovered until late the next day. No evidence, either, Raito could see, as he gave the rest of the file a cursory glance-through. Nothing they could do about it, yet, except run it through the forensics team and get a background drawn up for the victim. Chances were it wasn't a serial killer at all; a man as powerful and rich as Takahashi, CEO and main owner of Yotsuba Corp. until today would have a lot of enemies. But something didn't feel quite right about it …

Raito sighed and put it aside for some of the junior members of his team to take another look over and do the background work; very rarely did a case come along that required him to actively participate. Raito went through the new cases, Raito looked at data and made what seemed to the members of his team astounding conclusions, Raito very rarely got to work seriously on a case. He wished he was L, who could turn down any case in the world with impunity and had his pick of countries to choose from. Hell, he wished there was anywhere to go up in his job besides the tiresome positions of Director and Deputy Director that would give him even less interesting work, if possible. But what else could he do that still served the greater good? Nothing. Life was about work and work was boring, to the one that was Yagami Raito. Well, work and his meddling younger sister and her twisted ideas of a "night out," which he had to admit did break the tedium.

Suddenly, a request for connection came through the police computers. "This is Watari. L requests to speak with the detective Yagami Raito, please."

Raito reached for his computer, hitting yes on the station controls. "Yagami Raito speaking. You may connect me to L."

All the screens in the empty office – Raito liked to get there early and go through the initial case reports for the day – turned white, a black, calligraphic L bobbing at him. "Greetings, Yagami-san. I am grateful you are here early."

Raito coughed nervously, unsure of how to go about conversing with a computer screen as he had never dealt with L before, though he had heard of him. "Yes, I like to go over the work for the day. What can I do for you?" Raito ran through the mental checklist of crimes he'd been working on. As far as he was aware of, there was nothing to merit L's involvement …

"I am going to be in the area for a while on personal business, and I would appreciate it if Yagami-san would keep me updated if any crimes of my caliber come up, though no doubt Yagami-san could deal with them himself," the synthetic voice droned, getting straight to the point. "I believed it was polite to notify the local police, though I will be continuing my work abroad and would appreciate Yagami-san keeping this confidential."

"Y-yeah. sure, L," Raito said, nonplussed, "I'll keep an eye out and be sure to notify you. How is the Mafia murder ring case going?"

He was able to relax at L's emotionless stating of further facts and was actually able to have an intelligent conversation with the man, or rather computer, until the other members of the task force arrived, carrying the information and newfound knowledge peaceably within him through the rest of the day and emerging quite happily out into the street.

Which was when, of course, he ran into the white-haired boy.

"As the next L, I shall most certainly make my travels in a private jet," Near said, staggering off the little ramp into the bustling, alien airport in the late afternoon and holding onto the wall, having suffered a nasty case of airsickness and a minor panic attack on both takeoff and touchdown.

"I'd have to agree with you there," said Mello, too tired even to get worked up at Near after a nineteen+ hour flight with Matt being of no help whatsoever.

Matt, who had been sulking for the last half hour since the pilot said all portable electronic devices were to be turned off, pulled his out and began working on it furiously as he snickered. "Nate and Mikey, the poor little babies who can't withstand a flight like a man! Dude, I'm just glad you didn't actually puke or it would have gotten ugly."

Mello snarled, taking a weak swipe at him and saying, "I'll puke on you! And put that stupid thing away, Matt, so help me. We need to get a taxi to the hotel and reclaim our bags, so … why don't you and, uh, Nathan, go get our junk while I go to the departure area and flag one down? Meet you at the Terminal 1 Gate." Mello made a hasty departure, wriggling and disappearing seamlessly into the thick crowd of Japanese voices and sounds.

Matt looked at the now largely recovered Near, who had managed to get out his favorite robot and, flying it above his head and making little whooshing sounds, said, "How good would you say your Japanese is, Matt?"

"Whatever I've been able to learn from the non-dubbed Japanese videogames," Matt answered honestly, tucking away his DS with a sigh and standing straighter. "C'mon, Natey-boy, we've got to go get the bags. You can just be the cute lil' prodigy if we need one." Matt ruffled his silvery-white mop of hair, feeling strangely hopeful all of a sudden. "I'm sure it'll be easy enough to spot Mello's …"

Matt, tied up with two duffels, his own little backpack, Near, and having just spotted Mello's, the third, looked about in exasperation and decided quickly on a course of action. "Hey, Nea – Nate, sorry, can you wait here with the stuff? I just saw Mello's bag, and he'd kill me if I didn't get it."

"Certainly," Near said, looking up at him wide-eyed as he made a few of the LEGO men he'd rescued from his bag hike over the Artic terrain. "I will wait here for your return."

"Great, thanks, man," Matt said, shedding the bags as he sprinted over to the fat man in a rumpled suit with a harping wife on the phone that was trying to pull off the burgundy leather – who knew they made such a thing – suitcase next to it. Near watched him go, eyes raised. Matt had been better to him than he most likely deserved so far on this journey of theirs, even taking his side against Mello when Mello griped – not to mention having invited him in the first place. Near, never having been taught to weigh kindness in as a variable, was surprised by it, immensely so … but also …

Gratitude? The slightest bit of understanding of how Mello and Matt could be friends while still in competition … it was due to Matt. Maybe there were other things in the world besides just smarts that mattered … ?

As one of his LEGO men, the one with the blank, foolish-looking smiley face, fell off the side of the bag, the proverbial "cliff," Near decided he'd have ponder it.

Matt grabbed the suitcase off the metal rack, thunking it to the ground and hoping that none of Mello's precious chocolate had been harmed in the in-flight journey for the airline's sake. He couldn't help but pause at the man whose suitcase was now holding up a few others and the better part of the luggage rack, still trying to assuage who Matt assumed was either his wife or his mistress – did they still have those these days? – but unable to get the suitcase off with one hand. Matt could almost hear Mello's snicker.

"I'm really fine, honey, I promise," the man said, struggling as he tried to edge it out with one flimsy foot. "I took my pills on-flight and everything. No, I didn't touch the airline food. Yes, I ate the trail mix you packed for me. Yes, I sterilized the toilet before going. Of course I didn't watch the in-flight movie, I know you don't want me looking at those blonde bimbos. Yes, I'll make sure not to try any of the native food while I'm here. I should be home in a few days. When exactly? Friday, most likely … I'll get to the airport at 6. No, I don't need you to drive me home, my car's still there. Look, honey, I'm sure no one stole it or wrecked it. If it's hurt I'll call a taxi. Yes, I know that costs money, but what about the gas if you drive all the way out here and my car isn't even hurt? Look, honey, I really need to go … I'm in baggage claim right now …"

Matt snickered again. He really had to share this with Near. Near! He looked back to the pile of bags where he'd left Near again, relieved to see him safe and still peaceably playing with his LEGO action figures. But wait – what was that one kid doing, coming up to Near? He was way too big and mean-looking to want ot play with that stuff!

Matt got over there as quickly as he could, just in time to hear Near say icily, "I don't believe insulting my mental capabilities without a proper diagnostic is in any way accepted or logical, and your hatred of my toys likewise. Perhaps you have a familial trauma to induce such a thing, a father who doesn't pay attention to any of your supposed accomplishments and makes you angry enough to try and sabotage those you perceive to be weaker than yourself's happiness? In such, I will consider this a mere mistake and not attempt to take any sort of legal action concerning assault, theft, or harassment, though some may be inevitably taken in your future by another if you persist in this path. Now, I suggest you leave."

"Yeah," Matt added as the kid swelled up threateningly, using his lankiness and self-assured drawl to his advantage. "No one picks on my baby brother, kid. Get lost."

"Whatever, freaks," he mumbled, scuffing his foot on the floor and running off to go terrorize somebody else. Matt grinned at Near, not knowing the small boy had had so much presence of mind.

Ner, after a moment's shocked hesitation, managed the tiniest smile back, a true smile, as he stared up at Matt and timidly said, "Thank you for your … timely intervention."

"You're welcome, bro," Matt said, swinging his and Matt's bags up onto his shoulders, "But you didn't look like you were doing too poorly yourself."

"Now where's the money, Mister?" the kid demanded, facing him defiantly. "You said if I went up to the weird white kid you'd give me ten bucks, and I did. So where is it?"

"Certainly," Beyond Birthday drawled, watching the kid's face go pale as he ever so slowly stretched forward the money, dropping it right as the kid was about to touch it and ignoring his outraged yell. "I've learned what I wanted to, after all." Three suitcases, three boys, three invariably bright children with no parents in site that the records clearly said were fosters with the money drawn from the account for Wammy's Orphanage. B sighed happily. L would come to collect them, he was sure of it. And once he came, the murders would ensure he stayed.

B shuffled off, ready to commit his next murder … but not on the precious darlings, no, not yet. Nor on any with alliterative initials. There were no signs for his murders, now … and he was saving L's children for last …

Well, scratch that. For last he was saving L himself. And this time there would be no mere unsolvable crimes.

"Henh henh henh," B chuckled …

"There you guys are!" Mello exclaimed as he waved them over to a taxicab complete with another harried-looking driver, biting into a bar of chocolate as he muttered, "Took long enough, didn't ya? Nathan have to go puke or something?"

"Your bag was the most difficult to find," Near said placidly as he got into the dusty interior of the cab, huddling up against the window and fighting sleep as Matt jumped in after throwing the suitcases in the trunk and Mello continued to harass them as he got in.

"Huh," Mello snorted, offering Matt a square of his chocolate as the redhead pulled out the gaming device from his pocket and turned on an annoying barrage of bleeps and bloops, turning back to stare out the window as Matt coughed and jerked his head. "What, Matt? I thought you didn't want any!"

"Dude," Matt hissed, "it's polite to offer something to all people in the party. You're being rude even for you, Mikey. Plus, you know chocolate makes me lose concentration. I already need to make up for lost time; my success rate has totally gone down since we left."

"That's why I offer it to you, my man," Mello said, leaning back and letting the reprieve wash over him like air-conditioning or some such thing as it always did; except this time it … didn't. Matt's words bit into him, raising points that he was hard-pressed to ignore: He was being really rude, especially since he'd offered some to Matt. But he was normally rude! But only to stupid people and Near … so if he was rude to stupid people, why would he be rude to Near when Near was as smart as him? Because …

Mello growled and admitted it. He was jealous, of course, and didn't want Near here at all, let alone eating his chocolate. But really … just how low was he, then? He couldn't even offer his rival a square of chocolate … ?

"Uh …" Mello said, knowing the moment had passed but feeling like he had to try anyway, "Nathan … do you want some of my chocolate?"

"No, thank you, Michael," Near said in that emotionless way of his, not even turning away from the window to refuse. "It was polite of you to offer."

Mello, fuming and his self-introspection blown over in a blur of anger, didn't notice the tiny smile Near had turned away to hide. But Matt did.

Raito stared at the boy, now noticing the other two getting their bags out of a taxicab and arguing as the blonde finally paid and it pulled away, as the boy stared unblink- ingly back up at him, clutching two little LEGO men in one hand and seemingly content to stand there forever.

Raito coughed and was about to speak when one of the other boys, the blonde one, called, "Come on, Nathan! This is the hotel! Now haul your ass back up here and get this bag!"

He frowned as the supposed Nathan shuffled away again, his detective's senses beginning to spin. There was no way three boys of that size and probable age would have a legitimate reason for going into that hotel alone – which meant they were, most likely, runaways that had found some way to get money. Hopefully not illegal.

Raito decided to take them in, especially because they didn't look from around here. He didn't want to know how to ground three foreign boys could go around here, or worse, how much trouble they could stumble into.

The three of them were almost indoors now, the blonde still complaining and the redhead dully answering – Raito made sure they didn't notice as he got close to the white-haired one again, figuring he'd be the least likely to kick or make a fuss and the other two wouldn't run away and leave him behind, correctly so. He grabbed onto the small one's shoulder and a bit of his collar as he said pleasantly, "I'm taking you three runaways into custody. I suggest you cooperate so we can get you back to your parents, whoever they may be. You look like you've come a long way."

At the way their shoulders slumped and the boys followed him without running or otherwise assault, Raito felt a brief glimpse of triumph.

Too bad it was so short-lived.

Two hours later, the "visitors" (as he liked to think of them) had said exactly nothing, notwithstanding the blonde's curses and the redhead's briefly muttered "thank-you" when he'd had Matsuda bring them some food. The ticket stubs they'd had on them had been somewhat more satisfying, yielding that they were purchased by the funds of some orphanage named Wammy's, but – and this puzzled Raito to no end – there didn't seem to be such a place in existence! How was that possible, especially for one of his skills?

Raito resigned himself to what he was going to have to do, and really, this morning's call had rendered it shockingly easy. The only person who might be able to know when he didn't was L, and L had asked him just this morning to be kept alert of anything interesting. He hit the connection, bypassing Watari and the various formalities with ease. Finally L was on the screen, and Raito got the feeling that he was watching in puzzlement.

"Something so soon, Yagami-san?"

"Yes, actually. I've apprehended three strange runaways, children, whose tickets seem to have been purchased from an institution that doesn't exist …"

"Yes, I see, Yagami-san. An agent of mine will be there to collect them shortly," L said, terminating the connection and turning back to survey the darkness of his hotel room in a distraught silence. They'd been found, and unharmed, but … at the price of alerting possibly the best detective in the world ignoring him discovering Wammy's, even just as an orphanage for the gifted largely unrelated to L?

One thing was for sure, Yagami-san had very keen abilities of perception, to apprehend them on the spot and be able to discover even that much. He may be a useful person indeed …

"Watari," L said, calling him from the next room, "Prepare the car. I believe I will be going to pick up the three trouble some miscreants myself."

"Yes, sir," Watari said, wisely choosing to keep his thoughts to himself. Though he did wonder about a certain two detectives …

Yes … you see, even some B in there, and I hastened along the plot. My new name just occurred to me in the shower today, strangely enough, and there's a new Random Rhetorical Question on my profile.

Next up on the writing schedule is a OneShot crack!fic where Misa is the doomed Cinderella, L and Near her two stepbrothers, Raito obviously the prince, Takada her hateful stepmother, Hal Lidner her old mother, Rem her fairy godmother, and Mikami her rivaling in obsession with the prince dad … not to mention Ryuk the overstuffed cat, Ide, Matsuda, Aizawa, and Ukita, the horses/mice, the footman/rat Mogi, and the "cute" little cursing birdies Mello and Matt … note. Does not end happily for Misa, in case any of you were worried whatsoever. L comes in to collect her, he and the prince hook up, and she trips over Ryuk's scratching post and dies on the day of their wedding. Lolz.

Review … and after that, on to We Wish You a Wammy Christmas fluff!

Ryuk: "N! Stop holding the apple away! I'm trying to eat it!"

N: "Not over my computer you're not, Ryuk. Yesterday the main one crashed and word wouldn't work and that's why this chapter is (to the author) late. No way you're messing up the laptop, too."

Ryuk: "Well, I guess all you watching people out there should review … she gives me an apple for each one, and it's funny to watch her check her e-mail insanely every few minutes!"

N: "Shut up, Ryuk. Now. Or, so help me, I will send you back to the shinigami realm and confiscate both your Death Notes so that you will never see another apple aga –"

Ryuk: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Yeah. So pay no mind to Ryuk's screams (longest record I've ever had is three days, but Light says he's done longer) and review.

-N