Okay, so it's been, like, what…three months almost since my last update? Oh…that is a pretty long time. Well it's 1:30 am as I post this, so I hope y'all like. Feel free to point out any errors, and please tell me what you think of this chapter after you read it!

Disclaimer: Eh, sure. I'm tired XP

Near: Luke-kun would like to tell everyone that he doesn't own Death Note, but he's being to lazy.

Me: I'm tired, damn it you little sheep! I'm glad I tortured you in this chapter!

Near: Y-You did?"

Me: Yeah, you bet I did, you little bastard! In the WORST WAY POSSIBLE! With a GIRL! XDDDDD!

I sat on what I had claimed as "my" bed with the phone in my hand, absolutely dreading making the call I would be forced to make. After a few moments of wallowing in my own misery, I dialed the phone, listening to the tone as I waited for L to answer.

"Near?" came his worried voice through the speaker. "Where are you?" It made since that he'd know it was me. The line I'd called him on was reserved especially for me; more importantly, in case I was ever in trouble.

"I can't tell you that, but I am safe." I could hear typing in the background, and I immediately knew what he was up to. "The phone I am calling from is untraceable, so you may cease your attempts now." I thought it was kind of funny how he actually stopped typing.

"Near..." he sounded strained. "Where have you been? You never came home from school, and I...I've been worried..."

My eyes widened. Never in my entire life had I ever, and I mean ever heard L sound like that. He sounded concerned, scared, and anything else that fell under hose categories. He sounded like the exact opposite of L. And I was so caught of guard, I couldn't even speak. An awkward silence settled over the two of us for a moment, even though we weren't even in the same city.

"E-Elliot," I stammered, eventually. "Something highly important has come up, and I only called to assure you that I'm safe. Please don't try to look for me just yet. I shall call you again if there is trouble.

"Near, you will tell me exactly where you are so that I may personally come and get you. Now." Ouch. He was using his "I am L, you must obey" voice.

"Listen to me, Elliot," I commanded harshly, ignoring his order. He stayed silent, and I imagined that he was at a loss for words. Just as I'd told Mello earlier, I was always eager to please my cousin, always searching for a way to impress him. That said, I'd never outright refused to do something he'd told me to do. So he was probably pretty shell shocked to hear me acting so defiant.

"It isn't safe for you to come to where I am, or for me to come home right now. I'm not alone; I'm in a safe house with people that I trust, and I'm going to come home eventually. I...It's not like I ran away or anything. I'll call you when I'm coming."

"Near!" L sounded desperate now. "If you aren't coming home...then I need to know some things. Who are you with? Why did you need to leave?"

"I can't answer either of those questions directly, Elliot. I can tell you, though, that I'm with two good friends, and I needed to leave because it wasn't safe for either of us if I had stayed." He sighed, and I could tell that he was wallowing in defeat. I thought it was kind of ironic. L was the one who had tought me how to dodge the direct point of a question, and now I was using his own teachings against him.

"Damn it..." My eyebrows shot up to the roof. L had just...swore? I'd never heard him do that before... "Well then one more thing," he continued. "Please promise me that you will be careful."

Something in my chest burst open, and I was suddenly speechless. L, the L, was seriously begging me to keep myself safe? I guess he cares more about me than I thought... I felt my eyes get steamy with tears, and I snapped them shut before tears could start welling up. My cousin waited patiently for me to collect myself and answer.

"I...I promise, L. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Near."

We ended up staying in Mortar's house for almost two weeks before I started to go crazy. I hadn't seen sunlight since before I'd been terminologically kidnapped, and while that usually wouldn't be a problem for me, I was also deprived of anything to keep me busy. So not only was I bored out of my effing mind, but I was developing a nervous twitch from the lack of plastic based playthings.

As Matt and Mello came into our bedroom, I noticed two things-they were both covered in ash and soot, and they weren't carrying any toys. The second thought wasn't at all surprising, but every time I saw the sight of those two coming in bereft of toys, a small part of me died inside.

Yes. I am that obsessed.

My point is, I was going nuts. And Matt seemed to notice, too. "Hey Mels," he began, warily. "I think your boyfriend needs a pill or something, 'cause he's acting like a freak." Over the two weeks of what could be called confinement, both Mello and I learned not to be bothered by Matt's joking insinuations about our relationship. It was true that I definately liked Mello more than I did before, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him in that context just yet. And whatever Mello was feeling, he kept it to himself.

"I-I'm fine," I forced out between clenched teeth. And because I wasn't totally convinced, I said it again. "I'm fine." They both gave me skeptical looks before the silence set in. It wasn't awkward at this point, but only because we'd been doing the same things day by day for the two weeks we'd been there. We'd wake up, take turns getting ready, we'd eat breakfast, and they'd dissapear into the Danger Room for a target practice with Mortar, who was never without some form of explosive. After that, they'd stroll in for lunch, we'd all eat together, and then my two friends went to work on the fourth basement while Mortar and I blew things up in the Danger Room. I didn't think it was a very good idea for them to fuel my addiction so readily, but I wasn't complaining.

Mello turned on the hot plate that Mo had brought us, setting a pot of water on it to boil and dumping a few packages of instant ramen into it. I watched the steam rise with interest, thankful that watching the vapor rise in tendrils was able to distract me from my lack of toys.

"How is the fourth basement coming along?" I asked Matt. He had already turned his Gameboy on, but I knew he was paying attention to me.

" 's Fine," he slurred around the cigarette dangling from his mouth. I silently thanked Mortar for designing the ventilation the way she had, otherwise I would've died simply from choking on the noxious smoke. "We're already done with the foundation, and we're just starting to put in wood for the floors. Mo is destined to make this level as much like a house as she possibly can."

I didn't respond, but imagined what the fourth basement might look like upon its completion. I pictured a thick wooden door, and a homey looking living room with white plaster walls that would no doubt be reinforced with steel. I imagined a plush black sofa and a big TV, with a kitchen made of wood and marble, with white appliances. I sighed; it sounded so much more comfortable than the concrete room that the three of us were confined to for the time being. I let my mind wander into the other rooms that would surely be a part of Mo's fourth level. I envisioned a bedroom with fluffy carpet and a large, comfortable bed, a desk on one wall and a dresser on another.

I sighed again. The closest thing we had in here to a fluffy carpet was a flattened down rug that covered the cold concrete floor, and our beds, while not necessarily uncomfortable, weren't quite as inviting as what I was fantasizing about.

Mello broke me from my daydream with a loud bang of his wooden spoon against the metal pot he was cooking on. While I had been lost in la la land, he'd already retreated to the bathroom, poured the water down the sink, and returned, adding the flavored powder that made the bland, fake noodles taste edible. I slid down off of the bed, plopping down onto the floor to take my share of lunch. Mello handed me a bowl with a fork, and we ate in silence until a loud thudding came from outside the door. I blinked, looking towards it just in time for me to see Mortar kick it open forcefully.

"It was open..." Mello grumbled. Mo ignored him.

"Guess what guys!" she squealed excitedly. I couldn't help but think that it was highly out of character for her. We all looked at her expectantly. "My dad left the house for a week!" Matt and Mello both broke into relieved grins, getting up so fast that I was amazed that they hadn't spilled their food all over the place.

"Um...so?" All three of them looked back at me like I was insane, or stupid.

"We get to go upstairs!" Matt explained, his tone suggesting that it should've been obvious. My eyes widened, and I got up.

Mello, Matt, and I ran like our asses were on fire.

The first thing Mello did when we resurfaced from the basement, much to my amusement, was make a beeline for the nearest bathroom. It wasn't like the bathroom in the third basement was bad per se, but it was a metal toilet and a large sink that was used for cooking, "bathing" (meaning taking a sponge or rag and cleaning yourself one piece at a time), and pretty much all our other needs, and the floor was cold concrete. It was more like a prison bathroom, or one that you'd find in the middle of a park. Therefore, I suppose it was reasonable that we all wanted to exercise our newfound access to porcelain and tile.

Matt, not surprisingly, headed straight for the kitchen. He looked kind of grungy, as he'd been helping Mortar test her newest batch of explosive devices right before lunch, and had only watched off his hands before he'd sat down to eat. Needless to say, his ash and soot covered face and clothes clashed brilliantly with the white marble counters in Mo's kitchen. I followed him, simply staring at the house. I had been through here before, but it was very quick, and I'd been unconscious at the time.

The walls were all white, and there were a few pictures placed every couple feet (the walls were pretty big). Some showed a little girl, who was obviously a younger version of Mortar (though even as a small child, her hair was electric blue, she was wearing goggles, and holding a sparkler). Others contained a middle aged man with chocolate hair and Mo's blue eyes, who I assumed was her father. I decided not to inquire as to why there were no photos of her mother. It was probably a personal matter (translation: She was either dead or had left the family).

"Hey, Near," Matt called from the chrome refrigerator. He was helping himself to several plastic tubs of what I assumed were leftovers. "You want any food? This stuff's better than that instant ramen crap Mo's been feeding us!"

"Well excuse me," Mortar said sarcastically. "I forgot how horrible my safe house's cuisine is compared to all the other ones in the area. Maybe next time you should head to Motel Non-Existent down the road next time you're looking to escape the Mafia!" She 'hmphed', crossing her arms.

"Alright, alright," Matt said, waving a hand dismissively at her. "I get it. But seriously Near, she's got spaghetti, meatloaf, chili…" he went on to describe a few more foods to me, but I just stared at him, lost in all the options. The past two weeks for the lot of us had been nothing but instant foods like ramen and macaroni. Not a lot of options there, so being suddenly faced with a million different choices was a bit overwhelming. In the end, I just ended up having leftover vegetable chili, which Matt decided for me, since he was already heating it up for himself. I didn't mind; it sounded pretty good anyway.

"So Near," Mortar said from her place seated at the island in the middle of the kitchen. Her soot-blackened elbows supported the weight of her upper body as she leaned in towards me on the other side of the island. "Tell me about yourself. We haven't gotten much alone time since you guys got here, what with Mello being so protective of you."

Normally, I would've decidedly ignored that comment. Don't get me wrong, I still ignored it, but for an entirely different reason. Now I stated before that Mo, while being heavily tomboyish and badass, was fairly gifted in the looks department. That included…well, let's just say I blushed heavily and forced my eyes to stay above her neck when her v-neck collar began to droop.

I do have to ask you to remember that I am a teenage boy with active hormones.

She didn't seem to notice both the fact that her shirt was incredibly revealing at the moment as well as the fact that my pale face was probably dusted with red, because she just stared at me, waiting for an answer. Eventually, I regained my voice.

"Uhm…well…" Yeah, shows how well I do in that kind of situation. I don't know where my defenses had gone, or why my stoic shield wasn't employing as I requested of it. "There's not much to tell about myself." That was what I eventually came up with, still trying (and only just barely succeeding) to put up my mental barriers.

Mortar didn't help me out all that much, because she continued to innocently scoot closer to me, an inquisitive expression on her face. She looked like she was trying to figure out what my exact skin tone was or something else weird like that. Either way, her proximity to me, as well as her every drooping neckline was making me severely nervous, though I tried not to let it show as much as possible.

"I-If I may ask," I said, mentally shooting myself in the head for stuttering. "What exactly are you doing?"

Mo's eyes became more focused as she looked straight on into mine in a bold and unnerving manner. "I'm judging you," she said.

"Judging me?" I repeated, puzzled. It took all my self control not to go "er…" at the beginning of that sentence. Jesus, I thought. First Mello, and now Mortar? How many other freaking people are out there that I can't be impassive towards?

"Yes!" Mo confirmed. "I'm judging you!" She left her blue gaze on my eyes, and I felt the desperate urge to blink, if only to break the obvious intrusion she was forcing. It felt like she was ransacking my soul with her mind or something…However, I felt myself unable to move as she seemingly inspected me.

I was just about to ask her what she was judging me based on, or rather, why the hell she was judging me in the first place (what the hell!), when a certain blonde tirade came into the room.

Suffice it to say, Mo and I were in a fairly awkward position. I was in a chair on one side of the marble island, and was continuously scooting backwards to avoid a collision between Mo and I. At this point, Mo was up on her knees on the island, leaning over the edge to stare into my eyes (or into my soul, whatever the hell she was doing…), and I suppose it would've looked somewhat…-gulp-…sultry from Mello's angle.

This scene could be taken a couple of different ways, especially since Matt was standing right there watching us the whole time (*ick*). Mello immediately put the wrong twos together and flushed angrily. When I caught sight of him, I winced and flushed. Mo didn't catch sight of him at all, because she was too busy inspecting me.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing, you freaking pyromaniac?" Mello screamed, cocking his gun. Matt didn't bat an eyelash, and I half expected Mortar to ignore him and continue scanning my spirit.

Instead, she jumped up off of the island, walked over to Mello, and held out a "thumbs up".

"I approve!" Mello raised an eyebrow, lowering his gun, and we both looked at her in confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about, Mo?" the blonde boy asked. "Approve of what?"

"I approve of Near, of course!" Mo said, as though it were obvious. "He's smart, that much is obvious, he's got a complex mind and thought process, and he's just so cute!" Mello and I both blushed as we realized what she was talking about. "Though, I can't say I every pegged you for a loli-shota lover…" Mo said thoughtfully. I frowned. I spoke Japanese, and I knew what "loli-shota" meant. What I didn't understand was why she was referring to me as one.

"What are you even talking about?" Mello snorted indignantly. Matt leaned over to his friend's ear as he stirred a bowl of vegetable chili. If I had to guess, I'd say that Matt was explaining to Mello exactly what "loli-shota" meant. The probability of that rose as Mello's once furious flush of rage had dimmed down to an embarrassed, scandalized kind of smile. "H-Hell, no!" he denied. That led to a big discussion/argument on my status as a loli-shota. (?)

I stared at the three of them; Matt was wolfing down a bowl of chili and pushing another one towards me. Mello and Mortar were arguing relentlessly; it didn't look either would win anytime soon. All in all, the whole thing looked like…well, like a family.

Go figure. I get kidnapped by my stalker after being shot at by the mafia, I'm in hiding at the criminal safe house of a teenage girl, and I feel more at home than I ever did back at my apartment.

And despite the fact that I'm a total ass for not updating sooner, I'm going to leave it there, because it's 1:30 am and I'M EXHAUSTED.

Goodnight.

~Luke Benz

*passes out on floor*