{{I would like to address this first part to a random persion. I know you're reading this. First, I was unclear when writing before. I know L is L's first name, and that his second name is Lawliet. Thank you for clearing up what apparently was confused. When L said he was embarrassed of his name, he was talking about his last name (Lawliet) because let's face it, it's kinda a girly name. So yes, I do know this. Thank you and your all knowing wikipedia site.

Second, Many people say that black and white and gray are not colors. Well those people can go on saying whatever they want. To me, they are colors. They have always been colors. They always will be colors. And being that this is just a matter of clashing opinions, I don't think it's worth conversation. Shades, colors, tones, nothings, call them what ever you want and allow me to do the same.

Thank you for telling me this, but I am a total art nerd (as well as Death Note and anime nerd) and I don't think you want to argue with me. :) }}

Apologies for the random interruption. I had a cute idea for this one. Something I wrote about in the first chapter. It focuses on L and Mello. Now, everyone's favorite detective:

Where did I learn to fight? Simple answer, internet. If you have noticed, my fighting style is mostly capoeira. I know other styles as well, but like that one the best. Maybe it is the satisfaction of kicking people?

But, as you know, I am sort of a genius. It's easy for me to learn things. And sometimes at Wammy's I would just get bored. So I'd go and learn something. Computers and books are wonderful things.

-L

!

Near woke up to the sound of someone talking. He was very annoyed. The little boys (All of them happening to be four at the time) had learned quickly that Mello talked in his sleep.

But lately it wasn't only talking. He'd been having nightmares- actually one reaccuring nightmare, every night. He found himself staying awake as long as he could because he was afraid to close his eyes. Every night he found the same horror story. That was- his life shortly before he came to Wammy's.

Near looked irritably over at the blonde boy who was muttering and crying and kicking around. He crawled out of his own bed and climbed onto Mello's. Leaning over Mello, he carefully plugged the boy's nose with his pointer finger and thumb. He'd found this was an efficient way to wake him up.

Mello quickly came to, but not without kicking and shouting even more. He pushed Near off of his bed and rolled over, still crying. He hated the stupid dream and he hated sleeping and he hated Near.

"Sweet dreams Mello," Near said emotionlessly as he got off of the ground and went back to bed. Mello lay on his back wide eyed, staring into the dark. He was so tired but he just couldn't sleep. The dream was still haunting him.

He imagined blood creeping across the floor boards, from the corner of his eye he saw his dead father slumped over into a chair. But when he turned his head to look he was gone. Mello could still hear clear as day his sister's screams.

"RUN MIHEAL! RUN!" He shuddered and a new wave of tears filled him. He wanted to get out of bed and run, but he was too afraid that behind his closed bedroom door would be his mother- who had finally snapped, with the big kitchen knife ready to kill him next.

He lay like that, terrorizing himself with his memories, until he finally couldn't take it anymore. His four year old body was just too tired, and his eyes closed gently as he fell asleep.

He woke up again with a huge gasp. His sister's screams echoed through the darkness out of his dream. "RUN MIHEAL! RUN!"

He couldn't stay in bed anymore. He lept out from under his covers and rushed out the door into the hall way. He had no plan on where he was going, but he couldn't stay like that any longer. He was shaking so bad as he walked down the hallway.

Somehow he found himself stopping in front of L's door. He stopped for a second, wondering if maybe L was in bed too. He would feel bad about waking him up. But he couldn't stay in the dark all alone any more. He tentatively opened the door a crack and peeked in.

L was sitting at his computer staring at the screen. He noticed a movement behind him and broke his stare.

"Mello? Are you okay?" he asked as he spotted the small boy. Mello had tear tracks down his cheeks and he was still shaking. He looked positively terrified.

"I-I had a *sniff* b-bad dream..." For a reason he didn't understand, Mello burst into tears. L was then crouching in front of the child faster than humanly possible. He caught the little boy as Mello fell into L, wrapping his little arms around L's neck with an iron grip and sobbing.

L had no idea what to do with the crying kid. He had no idea what to do with a kid in general, but a crying one? Geesh! What fifteen year old boy, even a genius, knows what to do in this situation?

Ignoring his doubts altogether he gently picked Mello up. He walked around his room slowly and patted Mello on the back while Mello clung to his neck and his shoulder. Eventually L got the boy to stop crying, and he set him down on the bed.

"A-are there anymore lights you could turn on?" Mello asked meekly. L looked around the already lit room. He nodded and switched on the desk lamp.

"Better?" L asked. Mello nodded. L sat down on the bed next to Mello and set his heels up on the box of the bed. He leaned forward slightly and looked over at Mello.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," Mello said.

"You don't have to," L said. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"I can still hear her," Mello said. He brought his hands up to his ears to try to block it out.

"Who?"

"My sister," Mello said. L had no idea what he was talking about, but he decided to follow it anyways. Maybe the child believed in ghosts.

"What is she saying?" L asked.

"She's screaming. She's telling me to run," Mello said.

"Run from what, Mello?" L asked.

"Mother. Ravi told me to run... I was so scared, so I ran. If I'd stayed, maybe she wouldn't have killed Ravi," Mello said.

"Your mother killed Ravi?" L asked, just to be sure he was following correctly. He could of course just look in Mello's file for his full name and where he came from and then research the newspapers from his home town to find the story. But Watari had told him that is was invasive to do that, so he hadn't.

"And father, and herself. It's my fault," Mello said.

"Why would it be your fault?" L asked.

"I made her mad. She'd been drinking, and I made her mad," Mello said. "I'm scared," he admitted. He brought his knees to his chest and leaned against L, who put an arm around him.

"You don't have to be scared, Mello. She can't hurt you here," L reassured.

"Will Ravi ever forgive me?" Mello asked so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

"She already has," L said.

"How do you know?"

"Because she told you to run. She wanted you to live," L explained. Mello smiled.

"What about the nightmares?" Mello asked.

"They're only memories now, Mello. If you don't want to remember then you can make yourself forget. It will help you to do that," L said.

"Did you forget how you got here?" the curious four year old asked.

"I don't think about it much anymore," L said.

"Okay," Mello said very whistfully. "Can you read the story again?"

L had found one thing the Wammy boys loved- stories. They loved reading in general, but stories were their favorite. The one he'd been reading with them lately was Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven. He'd had it memorized after the third time reading it, but he pulled out the book anyways.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore..." L started as Mello snuggled against him deeper.

L finished the poem and looked down to the blonde boy who was asleep and nearly in his lap. He didn't want to move him and risk waking him up again, since he seemed to finally be sleeping very peacefully. L wondered when the last time he'd gotten a good night's rest was.

Having nothing better to do and still not feeling tired himself, although it was far past midnight, he flipped a page of the book. He began reading about a hot air balloon, which was a rather bland story Edgar Allen Poe wrote.

!

L didn't remember falling asleep, but he also realized he didn't remember the end of the stupid story, so it must have put him to sleep. He woke up on his back with Mello's head on his chest. The opened book was setting next to him, but there was also a blanket over them. He knew there hadn't been a blanket before, and wondered where it came from.

(Earlier that morning- Watari had come back to Wammy's again. It was sooner than he had planned to visit, but he had a new case he needed help with. He knew that his young crime solver would crack the case easily.

He also knew about L's habits of staying up all night, or only sleeping for an hour or two at a time. He knocked tentatively as he entered. He was surprised when he saw L fast asleep with young Mello laying next to him. There was a book laying open next to them, and the title made Watari smile.

He gently draped a blanket over both of them and kissed the raven haired boy gently on the forehead. He went back downstairs to find his friend Roger. He could use a visit with him. )

!

Mello: Christ! I sounded pathetic in this.

Me: Mello, you were four. Besides, you were cute.

Mello: Whatever.

L: I remember this. Figured Watari put that blanket there.

Watari: Oh these good memories. I love remembering things like this.

Matt: Mello, you are the reason I started sleeping with headphones on.

Me: disclaimer please? somebody?

L: She no own death note. I own cake. :)