Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD

JUST SO YOU KNOW: I have taken creative liberties with middle names, so please take that into consideration. Also, I've only seen the Anime.

This is my FIRST Death Note fic, so I suppose you could say I'm new to the Fandom! Also, I live in England, I don't know Japanese, so any Japanese I use in this story I get from Google Translate.

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P.S. This is an AU - Light was never Kira, but still helped during the investigation; obviously, Light and L did not die; the Kira case took 1 year to clear up, not (about) 7; set in 2016. I apologise for OOCness, but it IS an AU ;)

I own NOTHING and NO ONE, apart from: Yuri

Chapter 12

L

I barely managed to swallow the pain medication Watari placed into my hand, hardly drinking any of the water. It had been years since I had last had one of my Episodes. That was what Watari and I had taken to calling them. They first started after I was brought to the house. I didn't sleep for days and, when I did, it was in Watari's room – in his wardrobe or under his bed, wherever I could to hide really. When sleep would take hold of me, I would be thrown into nightmares of my father or the streets. Some were memories, things I had seen and heard; others were twisted scenes my mind had concocted to torture me further. A handful of times, I would wake up to Watari trying to help me, keeping me from hurting myself, trying to help me. The rest, I would wake up on a bed, about a day later, not knowing what had happened. There were days where I would be doing some remedial task or some simple-minded activity, only to find myself, hours later, in a different room with Watari kneeling in front of me, fear plastered across his face.

It was barely a week after being brought to the house that we found out I had PTSD.

Watari would explain what happened during my lost time, describing how I acted and what I had said. I would sit there, staring at nothing as I listened, wondering how my brain could betray me in such a way. At that young age, I knew that my mind worked differently; I knew more than other children. It was one of the ways Watari had found out about me; they had been working on helping me when I was still with my father. So, I couldn't quite understand why that same brain was attacking me. During the weeks that followed, I would attempt everything I could to stop the Episodes. I was already an insomniac; I hardly slept as it was. When I felt I was about to fall asleep, I pushed myself to stay awake further, going as far as sneaking into the kitchen to chug mug after mug of coffee, topped off with mountains of sugar. Watari had found this out early. He had taken to locking cupboards, thinking that might keep me out of them. But I picked the locks. He hid the items I would need. I tracked them down within minutes. Watari tried everything to stop me from damaging my already fragile and young body. It took having a seizure to stop me. I tried so many things, but nothing worked.

It was at this time I realised I was stuck with it.

Watari had realised I started going downhill. I wouldn't leave my room. When I did, I kept to the shadows, barely speaking or eating. I would find myself staring too long at the knife someone would use when cooking; I would find myself feeling empty, lifeless.

When Watari found me bleeding out on my bedroom floor, after I had slit my wrists, we found out I was suffering from depression.

"What did I do?" I asked, quietly, refusing to look up at the man in front of me, holding the bottle of water in both hands, in my lap. "How much did the boys see?"

Watari spoke to me softly, slowly, walking me through each and every step of what had transpired. I kept my eyes on the water bottle in my lap, picking lightly at the label surrounding it. He explained how, once I managed to get my arm free, I had flung it to the side, whacking a glass vase off a table. It had smashed against the wall, large and tiny fragments of glass flying into me, piercing my arm and scratching us both. Watari had then made the decision, knowing it may only get worse, to apply pressure to a pressure point, instantly knocking me out and making me go limp in his arms.

"The boys saw a lot more than you would have liked them too," Watari admitted. "And, unfortunately, so did Light."

My head snapped up at that point, something clicking in my neck as I did so. I could feel my stomach drop; my heart stopped in my chest. I had never wanted the boys to see me in such a state, even though they had been warned as they had gotten older. But I had never told Light. I thought I was over it. I hadn't had an Episode in years, even if the memories would creep into my mind or I would still have nightmares. I thought I could get away with it for at least another year or so. I should have known I couldn't be so lucky.

"I am sorry, My Boy." Watari sighed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I told him, taking his hand in my left. "How are they all?"

"Honestly? They're scared. Not of you, but for you; they're worried about you. I've had to restrain all four of them from kicking that door down and piling on this bed with you."

A small smile pulled at my lips. The four of them would always surprise me.

"Now, I know you want to see them," Watari continued. "But I think, for now, you need to rest, and I want no arguments. You are exhausted and, after what has happened, you need to recover. And not just your arm, but your mind."

What could I do but follow the orders of my Guardian?

The next time I woke up, it was the following day, and I was, thankfully, still in bed. My arm was throbbing, but the pain was duller than the day before. I rolled up into a sitting position as carefully as I could, mentally thanking Watari for leaving the next dose of medication on the side table for me. I swallowed them gratefully before carefully making my way towards my en-suite bathroom. I managed to go about my normal morning routine with only a little difficulty. Changing my clothes, however, was slightly harder. The only thing I would remind myself was that I succeeded in the end.

I padded softly out of my room with sock-clad feet, following the corridor to the living room. It was still early, just after seven in the morning, so I expected nobody to be awake. What did I not expect? Light, sleeping on one of the sofas, a thin blanket draped over his body. I froze. My brain didn't seem to comprehend what my eyes were seeing. But he was there, and I knew I wasn't dreaming. As quietly as I could, I tiptoed over to the young man, setting myself on the edge of the coffee table. Cocking my head to the side slightly, I just watched Light's sleeping face. He seemed so much younger than eighteen, his face completely relaxed, and his mouth parted just so. Unconsciously, I reached out to brush a lock of hair out of Light's face, my fingers lingering on his hair and cheek. I couldn't help stroking his cheek, my hand refusing to move back. I couldn't look away from the contact of my skin on his. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that Light woke up. Even when I knew Light was awake, I still couldn't move back. I just continued to stroke his cheek as Light came back from the realm of sleep.

"L?" Light whispered, his voice hoarse from sleep, hand reaching up to rub at his eyes. "Is that you?"

"Yeah…. Yeah, it's me." I whispered back, my hand finally stilling.

Light blinked a few times before he could keep his eyes open. The moment his eyes focused on me, I watched his eyes widen very minutely, barely noticeable if you weren't looking. Before I knew it, Light had launched himself at me, hugging me fiercely with his arms around my neck. I wrapped my arms around him easily, gripping him tighter with my left. It didn't completely register that Light was straddling me.

"Oh, thank God!" Light breathed, shakily. "Watari said you were ok, but I just couldn't leave until I knew for myself."

All I did was press my face into Light's neck, pulling closer into me. It wasn't until then that I realised just how much I need that at that moment, to have Light in my arms and his own around me.

"Watari told me everything; he said you asked him to." Light continued. "I wish you would have told me."

"I…. I was scared." I admitted, quietly. "Terrified, really. I didn't want to scare you or-or unload my baggage. I couldn't do that to you."

Carefully, reluctantly, Light pulled back, resting his forehead against my own. His hands cupped gently around the back of my neck, the tip of his nose brushing mine ever so lightly.

"I don't care what baggage you have, L," he insisted, voice firm and insistent. "I want to be with you. I want to know you. Good, bad; I want to know. I would never, and will never, leave you because of what has happened to you or what you've dealt with. Will it be a lot to take in? Of course. Do I care? No!"

I could feel the stinging in my eyes, the ache in my throat. I screwed my eyes shut as tight as I could, willing for the tears to disappear before they had a chance to threaten to fall. My left hand gripped Light tighter as he moved his head back a little more, his hands slipping further from my neck to cup around my cheeks. It was seconds before I felt his lips on mine, just a light brush at first before he let himself press forward, slowly. Even with being in a relationship for close to a year, Light and I hadn't kissed much. We took everything at our own pace, ignoring what others thought was 'normal'. What was normal? In life, in relationships, in anything, what was normal? Normal was different for every single person. Neither of us had been in what we thought of as a proper or real relationship, especially not one like this. Neither of us wanted to go too fast, to destroy what we had. So, why couldn't we go at our own pace? In all honesty, I believed it made our relationship stronger. Neither of us moved to deepen the kiss, content with the press of lips on lips, wrapped up in each other's arms.

"Please," Light pleaded, when we pulled apart. "Please, let me know you."

How could I say no?

Light refused to let me move much, practically pulling me onto the sofa as he went to ready himself for the morning. When he returned, he had tea and food on a tray, all but demanding me to eat. I sat with my right arm resting on the arm of the sofa, Watari having it made it clear the night before not to use it too much. Light, with little coaching, lay on the couch, his head pillowed on my lap, as he held up strawberries to pop into my mouth. Between every strawberry Light would feed me, I would do the same to him, the fingers of my left hand quickly becoming sticky. We spoke quietly as we ate, Light questioning me softly about any and everything that came to his mind. From my favourite colour, which was gold, to what I thought came after we died. Just a variety of questions intended to let him know me better.

Of course, questions carefully turned towards my parents.

I had never really spoken about either of my parents. Watari knew about them; the boys didn't want to ask…. Telling Light what happened to me as a child was the first time I had spoken about either of them.

"So, I've got to ask," Light said, sucking another piece of fruit into his mouth from between my fingers. "Are you one-hundred per cent English, or what?"

"No, I'm not." I smiled. "I am a quarter Japanese and a quarter Russian from my Mother's side of the family. From my Father…. I'm a quarter English and, either, a quarter French or a quarter Italian. Or even an eighth of both. No one exactly knows with him."

"Why not?"

"Honestly? A large portion of his family disowned the other, but this is going back generations. He didn't know a lot of his family, so I don't know for sure."

For a moment, Light was quiet. He just stared up at me with his big brown eyes, almost the colour of whiskey in the sunlight. A molten gold that sparkled with youth, knowledge and pureness hardly any person had. I had heard people say you couldn't romanticise brown eyes, that they were common and not as beautiful as any other coloured eyes. Those people had never seen Light's, had never seen Light's eyes reflect the light in just the right way. Brown eyes were beautiful. Every eye colour was gorgeous! But no one's eyes would ever compare to Light's.

"Your Mother must have been stunning." Light mussed, eventually, his lips turning up into a small lopsided smile.

"Oh, she was," I nodded, closing my eyes to picture her. "She had straight, black hair that reached the small of her back; her eyes were a deep, jet black. Her skin tone was somewhere between ours, probably a little darker than a warm olive. She was slight and tall, and she had this smile. She always made me feel so safe. And, thankfully, I look more like her than I ever did my father."

Light didn't ask me anything about my father, thank goodness. I despised seeing him in my head, let alone having described him in any way, shape or form. I hated even acknowledging that he was even a part of me.

"I wish I could have met her." Light whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"As do I," I agreed. "She would have loved you."

"You think?"

"I know. She would have loved everything about you. Your mind, your heart, everything. And she would have loved that you made me happy."

"What was her name?"

Looking down at the young man in my lap, I found he had turned his eyes back to me, his head tilted ever so slightly, as he reached up with his clean hand to cup my cheek. Leaning into his touch, I couldn't help but feel grounded. Even with thoughts whizzing around in my head, I felt safe; that my feet were planted firmly on the ground.

"Her name was Yuri," I told him.

"Pretty." Light whispered, his thumb rubbing back and forth on my cheek. "What about your name?"

"Funnily enough, my name is, honestly, just L. L Lawliet is my full, legal name."

Light just smiled at that.

It was only an hour later that Watari awoke and joined Light and me. He gave the both of us a warm smile, though surprise at seeing me up was evident in his eyes. Watari quickly checked my wounds and changed the bandages before taking a seat with us. The boys, however, took a little longer to join us, none of them seeming to wake until eleven that morning.

The boys had been very touchy. Not as touchy as I had known them to be, but touchier than they had been for a while. The three of them didn't leave my side the entire day, sitting as close as they could to both Light and me, all the while being mindful of my arm. They didn't ask me about it. They didn't talk about it. They knew enough, and they didn't need to know any more.

For the rest of the day, the six of us sat around the house, talking. The boys quizzed Light about himself, wanting to know everything they could about him, much like Light had done with me hours earlier. They asked him about his likes, dislikes, his family and school. Any question they could think of, they asked. And Light let them, answering everything easily. Of course, Light had some questions of his own, slipping them in whenever he had a chance. I could already see a strong relationship forming between Light and my boys after such little time. They were so comfortable with him, and Light was so accepting of everything about them. I could not keep a smile off my face.

All too soon, it was time for Light to leave. He had told his parents I had been injured, and he wanted to stick around to make sure I was alright, but we both knew he had to go home that night, much to our displeasure. The moment Light's Father messaged that he was outside of the building, I walked Light down to the bottom floor, not willing to part with him quite yet. When we reached the front entrance, neither of us expected Light's Father to be out of and leaning against his car.

"Chief Yagami, how are you?" I asked as we walked out of the building.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same," he replied, glancing towards my arm. "Is everything alright?"

"Ah, yes. It's a long story, but the short of it is a glass vase smashed, and I managed to injure myself with it. But everything's fine, nothing else to worry about."

I could see the questions burning in the Chief's eyes; I could tell he wanted to push the subject further. But one look at his son had the elder Yagami holding his tongue.

"As long as you're alright," he told me, sincerely. "You know my wife and I are only a phone call away if you need anything."

"Yes, thank you." I nodded.

With a small nod of his head, Light's Father made his way back into his car, giving Light and me a moment to say goodbye. With a small hug and a kiss on the cheek, with a whisper of letting Light know he could tell his father the whole story is he so wished, I let Light go.

All too soon, Light was gone.

When I was back in my home, back in the living room with Watari and the boys, I sat down heavily, looking at each of the three teenagers in turn. The three of them flocked to me quickly, Near snuggling up into my left side, whilst Mello and Matt sat on the floor in front of us, leaning their heads against my legs.

It wouldn't be so bad….

With a look to Watari, seeing the acceptance and approval in his eyes, my decision was made.

"Boys?" I coughed, softly, not wanting to startle them. "I've decided you can stay here with us."

Their heads snapped around to stare at me, eyes wide and mouths open.

"We'll do a trial first before we make anything concrete," I warned them as I continued, a slow grin spreading across my face. "However, I think we all know how it will end up."

Within seconds, I was being squeezed by three excitable teenagers, one encircling me around my torso, whilst the other two grabbed a leg each. All I could do was chuckle lightly, some sort of weight being lifted off of my chest, even with the shit storm that had transpired.

I was far from being ok, that was for sure. But I was, also, far from being broken. Because I had Watari. I had my boys. I had Light.

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