#46 Family

I was a father at twenty.

To three boys, if you must know.

Matt was my first, oddly enough, given that otherwise he is third.

I can remember the day it happened. We were all four out in the grounds of the house, playing together, I can't remember what, but the game somehow seemed to revolve around tackling me to the ground and trying to pin me there.

I remember Matt was sitting on my chest, goggles around his neck, laughing adorably while Near and Mello continued to pull at my arms.

And then we saw a car pulling up to the gates of Wammy's house.

And a nasty-looking man in his forties stepped out of it and started walking up the drive to the house.

And he stopped halfway when he saw us.

No, not us, Matt.

And I saw the traces of red in his greying hair and without really knowing why, gripped Matt a little tighter. He let out a tiny whimper.

For a moment we thought the man was going to come over, but then he seemed to change his mind and continued into the building.

"Matt?" Mello squeaked, "L, what's wrong?"

I shook my head, not knowing.

Matt swallowed and squeaked, "That was my dad… that… he's supposed to be in jail!!" he gripped my shirt as I sat up, clinging like a baby monkey, "L! They promised he'd never be allowed near me again!"

I patted his back and nodded. I knew all their stories, and Matt's was the worst.

Poor little boy was abused, and only got taken away when his father broke his arm. The trauma of it haunted him for years, giving him nightmares of the man who sired him coming to take him away from the one place he felt safe.

Only years of reassurances from myself broke the nightmares. Years of telling him that if anyone ever wanted to hurt him, they'd have to go through Watari, Roger, me, and probably Mello before they got Matt.

"Don't worry." I whispered. "I'm sure it's nothing to be scared of."

Matt didn't look like he believed me. He looked like he was going to burst into tears. I hadn't seen him like that for such a long time.

"Shh now…" I reassured, "You know I'd never let anything happen to you three."

Mello nodded and hugged Matt as best he could while the boy was still clinging to me. "Yeah! L protects us!"

Near looked at me with his large maroon eyes and said softly, "There is a 75 chance that Matt's father is here to take him back."

Near was always astonishingly intelligent like that.

I was called to Wammy's office later that afternoon.

Wammy told me calmly that Matt's father had mad parole, convincing the officials that the arm-breaking was an accident. He was here to take Matt home.

"You can't let him go."

My carer nodded and stood up, "Of course, L, I know that if we allow Matt to go with his father the boy may well be killed. But my hands are tied, unless we can prove that Matt has been adopted and is legally someone else's son, I shall have to release him to his father's care."

I thought about this for a moment or two, then said calmly, "Then there is only one logical course of action to take, Wammy, will you please bring me the adoption forms?"

He blinked at me owlishly. "L? You mean…?"

"I intend to keep my promise to make certain he is safe."

We put the process through as fast as possible, and Matt's father was furious, but there was nothing he could do.

I didn't tell Matt.

I didn't tell Mello or Near either when I adopted them, because I had to make sure my three boys were safe.

But of course, my boys are genius', and want to be detectives, and Matt is extremely good at hacking into any system.

So one day when I was sitting working in my room, the door opened and I felt three pairs of eyes on me.

The soft padding of three pairs of feet across the wooden floor, and then Mello and Near on my lap, and Matt hugging me around the neck from behind.

"What brought this on?" I asked, as if I had no idea.

Mello made a happy noise into my shirt and cooed out, "What, kids need an excuse to hug their dad?"

I sighed, "I have asked you before not to hack into the computers."

"When has that stopped us, dad?" Matt asked, face nuzzling my hair.

I sighed deeply, "Will you please not call me that?"

Near giggled and chirped out, "Daddy?"

I winced, "All right, you have had your little joke. Yes, technically speaking I'm your adopted father, but, and I want to make this very clear, I do not wish to be referred to as such."

And my boys all laughed and agreed to this, though to this day if they want something from me they tease me and call me dad.

I'm a father to three boys.

Hi readers! I'm appealing for ideas again, the next title is 'Creation' and I'm totally tapped out of ideas! Plz send me suggestions :)