Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, Legos, PBS, or Bill Nye the Science Guy.

Many thanks to all those who read/reviewed/favorited/alerted. It really did pump me up! Now, please enjoy the newest addition to Tattered! This is part one of Near's story. Hope you guys enjoy it.

The smell of bleach was everywhere.

Small feet hung over the edge of the chair's seat, since the child's legs were so short. Rough rope bit sharply into the soft delicate skin, but no sound of pain was uttered. After all, this was routine.

"Y-yes, that's right." The woman's frantic voice carried through the thin walls. "I know it's the devil! Please, I've tried everything!"

Dark grey eyes counted the ceiling popcorn for the fortieth time that day. The sound of the door opening drew those eyes down to the sickly pale woman. Raven hair hung down to her thin waist and her wrinkle free clothing was impeccable. Even the tails on her shoelaces were exactly the same length. "Thank you, oh thank you! Yes…tomorrow is fine. No, the price isn't important, just getting my son back is. Yes. See you then."

Pressing a button on the cordless, the thin woman gave the small child a scrutinizing stare. Squatting down in front of him, she let a small smile break through her worried expression.

"Hi baby, how are you doing today?" she asked in a higher pitch.

Fear knotted in his stomach as he spoke the words he had rehearsed all night.

"Morning, Mama!" Good, it sounded like a natural, excitable child talking. The smile on his mother's face widened, but he could see her critical eye watching for any hint of a mistake.

"Did you sleep well?"

Again, another rehearsed line. "Um, I think so…but I dreamed of flying, Mama! You could fly too!" Good, another hurdle crossed.

"That's pretty cool. Do you want to play with me?"

"Yeah!"

Fear nearly flashed through those grey eyes, but the little boy had far more control than that. He had managed to pass the first part of the test just fine, so he just had to keep it up. Maybe she would get tired and take a nap today and he would be safe and free. Untying the painful rope, the woman carefully pulled her son off the chair and stood him up next to her.

"What do you want to play with?"

His first instinct was to ask for his Legos, but it would be hard to keep up the façade if chose that. Instead, he smiled sweetly and asked to play with the (cringe) "choo choo train".

"Of course, Nate!"

Taking his hand, she led him to the playroom. Although any lesser person would have relaxed on the short walk, Nate refused to let up the act, even a little. Those wide eyes of his mother was ever watchful and he could not falter.

Once in the playroom, he went straight for the colorful plastic train that rested on the perfectly clean carpet. Plopping down like any child would, he began to move the train back and forth. After a good 30 seconds, his concentration began to waver. Doing something like this was so…mundane. Still, the eyes of his mother were staring; she was just waiting for a single mistake, a reason to let her fury loose. Seeing the row of different toy men near his mother's feet, Nate looked up at her with a sweet innocent smile and outstretched his hand.

"Can I have the conductor, Mama?"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the small child froze. He had just made a mistake. Panic shot through his body as he hoped, no, prayed that she didn't notice, but it was futile. She always noticed.

"'Conductor' is such a big word, Nate," she said with a slight twitch of her upper lip. A near inhuman scream tore from her throat as she launched herself at the toddler. Slaps and bony fists rained down on the boy. Clenching his eyes shut, his tiny hands tried to protect his delicate face. "Get out of my child, demon!" she roared in fury. "You can't hide from me, I'm always watching! Always!"

"I-I'm not a demon, please," Nate begged, but it was to no avail; it never was.

"Ha, you think your words will sway me, Beelzebub?! Never!" Grabbing the back of his pants, the crazed woman hauled him to the broom closet and tossed him into it. "The last priest may have failed to exorcise you, but this one won't! He'll free my son from your wicked grasp!"

Grabbing her Bible from the living room, she slammed it on the floor in front of the closet door and seated herself right next to it. Flipping it open, she began to read the scriptures with increasing volume. Trish Rivers read frantically, as she had done every day for the past seven months, hoping that her dedication would either drive out the devil or strengthen her son trapped within. Physical food and water were forgone completely in lieu of the spiritual food she threw at her boy.

Sniffling, Nate curled up as best as he could in the small closet while he stuck his thumb into his mouth and sucked on the digit. His free hand reached up to his hair and a chubby finger curled some of his pale hair around it. He just didn't understand what was wrong with him. His beautiful and loving mother used to pamper and care for him, but as soon as he learned to talk, all of that changed. She never looked at him the same again. She would yell at him and hit him, screaming that he spoke like a man and that the devil had possessed him. Even strange men called "priests" would come in to exorcise the devil, but all it did was bruise his delicate body and scare the wits out of him.

What had he done wrong?

Hours passed in a haze of hunger, pain, and scriptures. Darkness began to fall and Nate was starting to nod off. The sound of the front door opening, however, broke the monotony of the scripture reading. Perking up, Nate pulled his slick and wrinkled thumb out of his mouth with a "pop" and sat up. It was only a few seconds before the sound of his father's weary footsteps paused beside his mother. A briefcase was set down and the man knelt beside his wife.

"Trish, it's time to stop," he sighed as he rested his hands on hers. Jonas knew better than to pull the Bible away as she was reading, a scar stretching under his eye a constant reminder.

First, he needed to calm her down with soothing words and soft caresses. Once she finally stopped reading, he would gently pull her away and take her to the bedroom for a nap. As soon as she was out of the picture, he would put the Bible away and then unlock the closet his son was in. The routine was so familiar to the boy that he could predict how long it would take his father to free him.

The door clicked open revealing a handsome young man with worry etched on his face. But no, it wasn't worry for Nate. It hadn't been worry for him in a long time. "Come on, Nate," he sighed as he held out his hand.

Thankful for being saved, the sickly child clung to his father's hand. They walked quietly to the small nursery where Nate had grown up. Cool blue paint decorated the walls and freshly washed sheets were spread out on his bed. Stuffed animals were neatly line up against the wall and all his toys were put away in color coded containers.

"Nate, we need to talk."

Grey eyes shifted up in surprise. This was definitely something out of the norm; usually, his father would take him to his room and then leave to comfort his mother. "Yes, Daddy?"

The young man sat his son on the soft clean bed before he took a seat next to the boy. Jonas didn't hold his boy, didn't touch him, didn't do anything but sit on the bed with him.

"Your mother is dying," he started as he stared at the door. Nate looked up in a mixture of alarm and confusion. Death was a foreign concept to him, but the gravity of his father's tone let him know that it was something serious. "Actually, it would be more accurate to say that you're killing her. She just can't take this anymore."

"Daddy…I don't understand," Nate whimpered as he reached out to touch his father's arm.

"You're just too much, Nate. I don't hold it against you, really, I don't. You can't help that you're sickly or that you're not normal. But it's gotten to be too much." The young man continued to stare at the door, as if distancing himself from the small child clutching at his sleeve would make his decision less painful. "You see, me and your mother weren't expecting to have a child. We were both young and stupid. Then you came along and even though your mom was rejected by everyone she loved, she kept you and tried to raise you. But it's hard, it so terribly hard."

Nate wasn't sure why, but his eyes were watering. Something bad was going to happen and he didn't really know why. Was he just not being a good enough boy? Did he have too many toys? Or watch too much PBS?

"The sickness is hard enough to deal with and it's put Trish on a bunch of medication just to deal with the stress. Still, we were dealing with it, we were working it out. Then you had to…well, I don't really even know what this is. For heaven's sake, you use words like 'reconciliation'! And you have full blown debates with your toys! A few months ago, you weren't even talking and now?"

Still, the man wasn't through letting loose everything that he had been dealing with. "And the way you look at us like…like…well, it doesn't matter. Maybe you do have a demon possessing you, maybe you don't. It really doesn't matter."

"D-don't you l-love me anymore, Daddy?" His childish reasoning led him to this heartbreaking conclusion. He did something wrong and now his parents didn't love him. Large tears rolled down the chubby cheeks leaving behind angry red streaks.

"That's no the point," his father sighed as he tried to stop his son's crying. "Stop crying," he chided softly. "You know that you're allergic to your tears. But Nate, what I'm trying to say is that I made a vow to protect your mother until the day one of us dies. I married her, Nate, not you. So, I have to protect her and right now that means that I have to take you away from her."

"G-go away?" the delicate boy hiccuped.

"Yeah, but it won't be for forever. If Trish gets better, we can come back and get you." The truth was that Jonas didn't really believe that he would ever come back for this boy. His delicate wife would never be able to handle Nate without going crazy again.

The small child sobbed quietly as he watched his father pack his things up. This was something way out of the ordinary and he had no idea what to do. His entire life revolved around patterns and consistency and this sudden change frightened him as much as his father's cold words. Still, his face hurt too much to keep up the crying. He was left to sit on the bed and wait.

~_~_~_~_~_

"Is this Nate?" a small lady with big puffy hair asked as she looked at the shivering boy clenching his stuffed rabbit.

"Yes."

The young man sounded tired, but he resolved to finish this. It was sad, Nate thought, that after all the years he had spent sheltered in his parents' arms, it only took ten minutes to be given away to a stranger. Papers were signed, a picture was taken, and a file was created. Something hurt in the little boy's chest as he watched his father walk away without saying goodbye.

"You'll be alright," the woman tried to comfort, but Nate ignored her. Instead, he just squeezed his stuffed animal tighter.

~_~_~_~_~_

It didn't take very long before an older couple adopted the sad yet beautiful child. They brought him presents when they came to visit and they would hold him tenderly every chance they had. Both adults were a little heavy set and they had open happy faces. Still, they weren't his parents, and Nate did not return their affections. Their presents would remain untouched and he would just sit patiently on their soft laps until he was allowed to go back to his own toys. No amount of chiding from the service worker could convince him to treat the couple any better.

Nate was sure that once the two realized what a handful he would be to take care of, they would just abandon him. After all, that's what his parents did. Why would some other people think that they could handle such a difficult child as himself? Unfortunately, those two didn't seem to care that he needed so much medication or that he wasn't sociable. They didn't even care that he would wordlessly throw their gifts in the trash in front of them. It seemed that they were oblivious to the negative things.

Another child who had been in the orphanage a lot longer explained that most parents didn't care how much of a hassle a kid was as long as they were cute. This was an endless source of confusion for Nate as he pondered that. If that were the case, surely his own parents wouldn't have given him away. How many times had he heard his mother and father call him "cute" or "adorable"?

Still, a few weeks later the large and loud couple took him away from the small orphanage and brought him to a cluttered but large house out on a dainty farm. A few more children were at play in the spacious front yard. It didn't look like much fun to Nate, so he squeezed his companion, the stuffed rabbit, for comfort. He was hoping that those much larger children didn't intend to play as roughly with him. If they did, he would shatter into a million pieces.

"Lookie there," the woman said loudly, "all them kids are out here ta greet you!"

That wasn't a comforting thought to the scared little boy. If they tried to hug him all at once he be sent to hospital for broken bones.

"Don't ya worry," the man said with a smile as he parked the truck. "You'll be just fine."

Thankfully, as he was getting unbuckled from the car seat, Nate was quick enough to cling desperately to the tall man. Laughing, his adoptive father hauled him up out of reach of most of the kids. At least, that's what Nate thought.

Getting nearer to the group of children, the young boy was horrified to see that two of the three children were boys that came up to the man's shoulders and the only girl was only a few inches shorter. A house of giants was not Nate's idea of a safe environment.

"Aw, lookie there!" the blond girl exclaimed. "He looks like a scared little kitten!"

"Looks more like a sheep to me," the tallest boy replied as he stared the the mop of curly white hair.

"That ain't no sheep," the younger boy retorted as he shoved his brother. "That's a baby poodle, there."

Nate never missed home as much as he did at that moment.

~_~_~_~_~_

It took Nate several months to adjust to the new life on the farm. The family went to church every Sunday which would give him nightmares of being in that suffocating closet with his mother screaming the Holy Scriptures in an attempt to exercise the demon from him. They also had huge meals where everyone sat at the table and yelled about their day. The "new daddy" worked outside most of the day while the three children went to school and the "new mommy" went to school as a lunch lady and janitor. Since Nate was shy and easily prone to sickness, new daddy was left in charge of home schooling the boy any chance he had.

People everywhere would whisper about the small delicate child as if he wasn't there, saying all manner of things. They would praise the parents for taking on such a difficult and strange child (which would only make new mommy's head swell) or they would talk about how terrible it was that he wouldn't play with the other children. In all honesty, even the younger children at church would whisper about him. They would keep away so that there wouldn't be even a minute chance of Nate talking to them and then they would wonder why he wouldn't play like them. Even his own new siblings would say things about him, calling him "sheep" and other strange things. All of them would always laugh at the small child's expense and no one bothered asking how he felt about anything.

Even with all of the confusing and frustrating things going on, none of it was as terrible as home schooling.

The sound of the front door opening pulled Nate out of the illustrated book he had been reading. Quickly, he dropped the book and crawled under the couch. It was a tight fit, but this discomfort was far better than what his new daddy did to him.

The older man walked into the living room and chuckled when he saw it empty. "Nate, why're you hiding?" he asked good-naturedly. "It's break time."

Sucking his thumb quietly, Nate closed his eyes and hoped that he wouldn't be found. Unfortunately, his hiding place wasn't clever enough. The large familiar hand grasped his socked foot and pulled him out slowly. "Why're you down there, boy?" the large man asked as he wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

Nate opened his eyes and sighed unhappily. "Because I don't like break time," he replied honestly.

"You're such a smart aleck," the new daddy huffed. "And I'm always so darn considerate of you too."

He gently carried the squirming boy to his bedroom. Once the door was closed, those thick fingers pulled away the soft clothes covering the child and pressed salty kisses across his soft tender skin. "Such a perfect little doll," the middle-aged man praised as he lavished attention on Nate.

The pale child remained quiet as his new daddy loved him in such a strange way. He hated the dirty feeling he was left with after the man loved him and he even complained to his older new brothers about it. They just shook their heads and told him that it would only happen for a year or two. Still, he didn't want this to happen for a year or two. He didn't want this to happen at all.

Each time he was loved, Nate didn't know what to expect. Sometimes the man would just hold him and give him kisses all over, and other times he would have to put his mouth on the man's gross hairy pee-pee. This time, though, his new daddy did the loving that Nate hated the most. He spread apart the short legs and licked down there. A large calloused finger pressed into him making the small boy whimper and squirm.

"Shh, it's ok," the man comforted as he stretched the child's muscles out.

As another finger went in, large tears began to roll down his cheeks and he protested a little louder. His pleas went unanswered, of course, and the much larger man eventually replaced his rough fingers with his quivering erection. Holding the crying and shuddering boy still, he shoved his member into the small boy, eliciting a scream of agony. The ungodly sound couldn't compete with the wonderful feeling though, and the man continued to pleasure himself.

Tiny hands scratched at the large tanned hands and the legs quivered uselessly at the man's hips. A particularly loud shriek managed to stir up the perverse man's loins even further and he thrusted into that body with more fervor.

"Say it, doll, oh make Daddy happy," he panted as he pressed a kiss to the small birdie chest.

Disgust choked the small boy as he sobbed, but he knew that if he didn't comply things would only hurt more. The man wouldn't stop until he got exactly what he wanted and Nate didn't want any more pain than was necessary.

"Daddy!" he cried between pained groans. "Oh Daddy, fuck me!"

"Oh gods, louder!" the new daddy grunted as he began to go faster, and the child had no choice but to comply.

With each thrust, Nate screamed a little louder, but he knew that nothing or no one would stop this. No one ever came.

~_~_~_~_~_

The new mommy and her children came home around 4:00 PM as usual to find Nate watching television. Bill Nye the Science Guy had just started and those unnatural grey eyes were glued to the screen. Dan, the oldest boy, rolled his eyes and went upstairs while Kent complained to his mother that Nate was always watching TV.

"You would do well to watch that science stuff," his mother teased. "Now go watch it with Nate."

Kent huffed, but stretched out on the couch behind the youngest boy. After a few minutes, he got bored so he began to poke the four year old in the arm.

"Why're you so weird?" he asked as he continued to poke.

"How am I weird?" Nate asked while he continued to watch the screen. It was a question that he had wanted to ask for a while, but the opportunity never presented itself. After all, did he have the right to know why everyone gave him a strange look, why everyone avoided him and whispered behind their hands? Yes, he knew that he was sick, but was it contagious or something?

"Well, ya talk funny," Kent started off as he counted on his fingers. "You're so white, you look evil, you never try ta make friends, and ya stare at people like you wanna eat their brains."

"Speak funny?" Nate asked as he decided to tackle the accusations in order. "What does that mean?"

"You talk with all them big fancy words and you're only four! Other kids speak like kids and you speak like on of them adults."

Nate tore his eyes away from the commercial to stare at the older boy. Those words sounded almost exactly like his mother's. Was it true that his vocabulary really was that far advanced from other children his age? He had to dumb down his language to appease his mother, but he had never had an explanation for that before.

"Ok, but what does it matter what I look like? I'm just sick."

"Yeah, sick in the head!" Kent shot back before laughing his loud annoying way.

Before Nate could get any more information out of him, the new mommy called him for his medication. With a sigh, he forced himself up and limped to the kitchen. The white socks slid over the wooden floor easily, making a nice shuffling sound, but it ended as soon as he stood beside the large lady.

"What're you limping for?" she asked cheerily as she bent over to hand him his pills and a sippy cup with water. "Did you fall down again?"

"No," Nate grumbled as he took the pills into his own hands. "New daddy just loved me too hard this afternoon."

The crack of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the kitchen before the sound of the plastic sippy cup hitting the floor even registered. The adopted child stood frozen and stared at the pills rolling around the paneled floor. A large red hand print burned against his cheek as the new mommy stood before him pale as his socks and breathing heavily.

"Don't you dare say such filthy things," she hissed as she grabbed the front of his cotton shirt. "Don't you ever say that again, you hear me?!"

Filthy? What was she talking about? It was true that this was the first time he had mentioned anything about his new daddy's strange loving habits to his new mommy, but her reaction confused him. Why was she angry?

"B-but he just love me in the bed like always," the small boy tried to reason, not knowing what was wrong.

"You sick little pervert!" she screeched as she dragged him to the kitchen table where she bent him over and began swatting his tender rear. "Don't say such filthy things! That's stuff of the devil!"

Crying in shock as much as in pain, Nate thrashed around trying to get her to stop. None of the new siblings came to help him, even as he screamed until his throat was raw. The new mommy seemed to be filled with supernatural power as she continued to slap his rear end mercilessly. After what seemed like an eternity, those hateful calloused hands yanked the new mommy away.

"What in the hell is going on, darlin'?" new daddy asked in shock.

"He's speaking of the devil's things!" she screamed as Nate just sobbed on the table, his legs hanging limply. "Saying such filthy lies! He's lustful for you, he wants evil things!"

"Ok, calm down, darlin'," the man soothed as he held her close. "I'm sure it's a misunderstanding."

"No it's not! Gerald, he's said evil things to me!"

"Here, I'll take care of it," the man comforted as he looked towards the shaking child. "He'll never say anything like that ever again, ok? I'll teach him a lesson, just don't beat him like that. He's delicate, remember? Now, where are his pills?"

The devil, again those words were carved into the small boy's mind. He was evil, he was wicked. A monster. A fiend. For no reason that he could think of, he was dear old Lucifer himself. It was his new parents' job to beat the beast out of him, he realized, but he couldn't help but wonder if they weren't the ones who put that demon inside of him.


Author's Notes: Ok, I officially HATE the word "pee-pee". It sounds so weird to me! –shudders- It's just too gross, but it had to be used. I couldn't think of a better word for a four-year-old to use since he hasn't gotten his hands on an anatomy book yet. Ok, so don't kill me for torturing dearest Nearest! -hides- But please feel free to review and let me know what you're feeling about the whole thing. I really do enjoy reading your comments and I always take the readers' suggestions and comments to heart. Also feel free to let me know about any grammatical or spelling errors, or if you have any constructive criticisms about my writing style. :)