Author's Note:

I was going through my pen drives (the one I use for school collapsed suddenly, so I had to choose one of my others) and I saw the file of this fic.

It had been a while since I had opened the document with the intention to write, and I though I had uploaded all the finished chapters.

How wrong I was! This little one was sitting silently at the bottom, full of words and angst and little things, and I had totally forgot about it.

So you all who are reading this have my deepest apologies. I have no excuses.

For the next updates, I can't tell you anything certain. School is killing me, and I have to go to Bruxelles for a project in November, so I'm pretty busy.

The next chapter is half done, so when I have free time (what a foreign concept for my teachers) I'll try to finish it.

Anyway, enjoy! (And post me a little review, will yah?)

Chapter 6

"The black market theory is a good one, I have to admit. And judging from the killer's backlash, we will find the solution to the case following this lead. You had a good idea, Light" said L, wheeling around the chair to look at him from his position at the desk, surrounded by computer screens displaying all the data.

Light looked up from the paper copies of the same data he was looking into – and what a useless thing to do that was, since he had spent the last week on those files and hadn't come up with anything – and smiled sadly. "It hadn't been my idea; the newspaper got that thing wrong. It was actually Near who figured it out" he explained, stretching his back a bit.

L blinked, startled. "And your son is what, twelve years old? He must be really clever then, to think about that solution without any kind of training."

"He is."

"He also looks quite like you, I have to say."

Light frowned for a second, and then remembered Mikami's pen drive. "You saw the photo, didn't you?"

"Yes, I admit I was quite curious. Would you like to see? I gathered that you haven't seen it, and you must miss your son."

Light stood up and approached the other man, who had turned around again and started typing on the computer's keyboard, opening some windows on the screen.

Soon after the picture opened on the monitor.

Near was on what seemed the living room's rug, both of his legs gathered to his chest and with his chin resting in the groove created between his knees. He was staring right at the camera, his expression blank as always but still managing to transmit the surprise he had felt at being caught on camera. His eyes were dark grey, big and shiny, the sharp spark of his intellect shining through. One of his hand was playing with a strand of his white hair, and the other was lifted forward, a piece of white puzzle held in his fingers, clearly in the act of completing the latest gift of Beyond.

They studied the photo, and after a minute L seemed to reach a decision.

"When we find him, I'd like to take him to the Institute."

Light startled, his expression guarded, not knowing the other's goal. "Why?"

"He should be tested. From what you have told me, he has potential to be great. I bet he's bored most of the time, isn't him?" inquired L, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb absently, wide eyes resting on Light, who turned and got back to the couch.

"Yes. But the decision is Near's."

"Of course, I expected nothing less. Anyway, we have to infiltrate someone in the black market in order to gain some lead on the killer."

"Mikami has sent me a message an hour ago" reported Light, secretly relieved that the conversation had shifted away from dangerous waters and had settled on the investigation. "Beyond is up and moving. He had offered to be our inside man, since he can be very convincing. He's a criminal, after all."

L's expression clouded over, his eyes darkening. "Beyond… You still haven't explained why he's here."

"I told you. He heard my son was kidnapped and showed up to offer his help."

"But I don't understand how he knew you had a son, and how you called yourself and where you were, for that matter."

Light winched a bit, stretching his leg under the low table in front of him, loosening slightly the tie around his neck. "We met seven years ago in Los Angeles. And before you ask" he added seeing the look L had given him. "That was before he killed those people there. I didn't even know he was a killer, it's not like I kept tabs on the Institute and its habitants." He deliberately ignored the other's near imperceptible wince. "Anyway, he saw me walk down the street, followed me, showed himself to our door that evening, and met my son. We moved soon after because of a promotion of mine, and headed to Japan. We didn't see him all these seven years, and I think he guessed that we were here. For my name, I'm using the same alias I went under there, so it wasn't that hard to find me."

During his speech Watari had entered the room, pushing a food cart inside the room. He silently served the two their tea, listening in.

"I think Beyond sees Near as family" Light twisted a little the truth, knowing Beyond's preference of calling Near 'dear nephew' every time he could.

The old man snorted, finding something amusing. "He probably saw himself in you, Kira" he spoke, drawing L and Light's attention.

"What do you mean?" inquired the latter, his eyes narrowed.

"It takes a killer to know one, Kira."

Light's nostrils flared, his already worry-strained temper snapping under the strain of years of verbal implications and scorn. He almost slammed his teacup on the table, glaring up at the inventor with fire in his golden eyes. "I'm tired of this resentment you have for me, Wammy. I want to know why you think I'm a killer" he dictated, overlooking L's presence, too pissed to see the startled look the detective had sported.

Wammy took his time sitting on the armchair in front of him, his contempt for Light written in every line of his face. "I remember you that night. I'd met you and your father at a conference I had made on the future possibility of the creation of A.I.s, and your curious questions had interested him, since they were too clever for an eleven years old. So imagine my surprise when, on the late trip back to my hotel, I saw a boy totally covered in blood walk down the street. Even under all that gore I recognized you. And when I approached, and asked you whose blood that was, you said it was your family's, and they were all dead. I whisked you away to England straight away, of course. Your intellect was smart enough to tolerate your criminal record, since you were that young. But my policy is 'once a criminal, always a criminal', so I kept an eye on you, even when you left the Institute."

L started in his chair, turning accusing eyes on the old man. "Why have I not been informed of all this?" he asked, his smooth voice cold and accusing.

Wammy looked at him, ignoring the figurative hole in his head made by Light's furious gaze. "You seemed so caught up in his charm, that you wouldn't have believed me. Anyway, when Kira left, I thought it was the best for all of us. I watched him for afar, of course, but he never made a wrong step, apart for the creation of fake IDs and bank account, but those were necessary, so I overlooked that."

"You never asked me what happened that night" Light stepped in before L could open his mouth, his expression cold as stone, his eyes fixed on the older man. "You just assumed I had killed my family! You treated me with contempt for years, because you thought me guilty without proofs!"

"I had met your family, Kira" insisted Wammy, his eyes steely from behind the glasses he was wearing. "Your father was a good man, and a good Chief, and your mother was the kindest woman I have ever met. Who else was there? Your sister? She was seven year old."

"But you never even tried to find out what happened, Quillsh" L said, standing up to approach the food chart. He took out a plate of cookies, putting one in his mouth.

"You would have thought the same thing, L."

"No, I wouldn't" remarked L, his voice muffled around his mouthful. "I don't know what really happened, and I too saw Light covered in blood when you brought him in – it was cruel of you not to let him have a shower, by the way -, but unlike you I never jumped to conclusions. I asked Light countless times what had happened, and he said he didn't remember, and I believed him. I know him, and while he might be capable of murder" he avoided Light's incredulous gaze and his loud protest. "He's not one to deny his actions when he knew he wasn't going to be prosecuted if he had killed someone. He simply had no reason to hide. Of course, if he really killed his family, he probably had a good reason for it" he concluded, biting into a cookie with satisfaction.

"It's always beautiful to know you hold me in so high esteem" muttered Light at him angrily, earning a crumbs-covered smile that almost made him smile in spite of his anger. "And I really couldn't remember. Until seven years ago, when I returned to Japan. I had to know what happened, so I went to my old house. It's still empty, by the way" he said, blinking his eyes and looking at the old inventor dead on, his voice serious. "I didn't kill anyone that night, Wammy. You'd met my family just once, so you couldn't know that my father was burdened by his work, never coming back home, practically living in his office. You haven't heard my mother cry at night because all her and my father could do was fight, over and over again, on his work and his absence from his children's lives. I had adapted of course, and I was used to being without parental support, but Sayu was little, and I knew she was suffering too."

Light paused to take a sip of tea, feeling L's intense gaze heavy on himself. Wammy's face was blank, the contempt gone from his face but still watching him with hostility. Talking felt difficult, his throat threatening to close at every word he said, but he had to get this thing off his chest. They had to know. "The situation was tense. I knew it, of course, but I had always been a little distant from my parents, so I didn't care. Sayu was another matter altogether. She was my little sister, bubbly and always excited and clever in her own way. She was hurting, and I tried to make it better. I tried to talk to my father, but he wouldn't listen. 'These are adults' matters, Raito' he had said, dismissing me. He saw me as his perfect son, who didn't cause problems, who didn't ask questions, who didn't go against him. I was a model, not a human being. So my opinion didn't count, because it had to be identical to his own, and for him Justice came first. Even before his family."

Light felt like crying and laughing at once. "They say that Japanese culture is restrictive and stifling. Or maybe he didn't know how to cope with the rising tension. He just snapped, one day. Work was harder than ever, he had been sleeping on a chair for months, and the arguments with my mother were more frequent, twice a day was the usual. He came home."

Light remembered it all. The door opening, Sayu's excited shout of 'Daddy's home!', the fretting of his mother toward the door. Only he had remained behind. He had felt it in the air, the strangeness of the situation. Something wasn't right.

"He had a gun. Sayu was the first to run to him, and she was the first to go down."

His sister hadn't even realized the situation. And with a gunshot she was gone, lying like a broken doll on the ground, her face mangled and unrecognizable.

Light was a genius. He had known since he was seven, when everyone around him didn't seem to understand him, to reach him. He knew now that he couldn't have done anything again a grown adult and a gun. That situation hadn't been one that he could have solved with clever answers and quick estimates. But he still felt that he should have had done something. He had just stayed there, at the bottom of the stairs, watching with wide eyes while his sister was killed, his mother's horrified screaming echoing in his ear.

He remembered thinking 'When had this gone all wrong? When had this escalated so quickly that I couldn't predict this outcome?'

"My mother had run towards me, and she was within arm distance when the bullet reached her."

Sprays of blood had covered him, and he still hadn't moved. After the first seconds that he had needed to process Sayu's dead he had felt detached, and even his mother's body hadn't shaken him from what he now recognized as shock. He had looked into the crazed eyes of his father, and he had seen for the first time the lethal descent of a mind into madness.

"By then my father had reached me, but he didn't manage to kill me. I was his trophy, he couldn't destroy the best masterpiece he had created" a choked sob escaped him, and he hated himself, trying to collect his mask, to recompose himself. He looked at Wammy, who had a horrified expression on his face. Light stood up.

"He shot himself in the head. That's why I was covered in gore when you found me. Now, I need to use the bathroom. Please, excuse me" he concluded, making his way out of the door and towards the loo.

He had shared his family's last moments; he would be damned before he would let them see him cry.

The sound of the door closing after Light seemed to shake the other two occupants of the room.

L blinked, standing up and making his way over to the glass window behind the chair.

The blood on Light the first time he had seen him had intrigued him, and he had been skeptic when the eleven years old, after months of living together and growing closeness, had told him that he didn't remember anything. But he had seen those eyes, and they had been sincere. So he had reached the conclusion that something really bad had happened to make Light's mind reject the memories so thoroughly. Until now, he had thought about a criminal taking their revenges on Light's father, or a car crash. The idea of the father being the culprit hadn't crossed his mind. He had made his researches, of course, when he was sure that Light was asleep in his cocoon of blankets, his curiosity too strong to make him let the matter go. He had found an impeccable record of a perfect family: a good Chief, a caring mother, a brilliant son and an average little girl.

He had forgot that every perfect family had its skeletons in the closet. That nothing is what it appears to be.

L heard a tired and drawn out sigh behind him, and turned in time to see Wammy rub his tired eyes, his old face wearing a defeated expression.

"You should apologize" he said quietly, his voice low.

"I asked him, that night, what had happened" the inventor whispered, looking at his 'employer'. "And when he said he didn't remember, I didn't believe him. The mind rejects memories when something happens that it isn't able to understand, or bear. And Light was the very example of geniality – not like you, L, you and your brother were the hidden kind, the one you had to bring out or it would never show."

"Beyond and I were raised by a mother who loathed people smarter than her. We had to hide our genius in order to survive. Light was different. He grew up in a family that admired him so much that all they saw was his intelligence. He had to always display his quick mind, because they wouldn't have loved him otherwise."

"That's why I didn't believe him. His mind was too sharp to just… forget something."

"You made the same mistake the worlds makes when confronted with people like us: we're people, not machines. We feel, we hurt, we bleed. And because we are so sharp, so clever, we see the true nature of the world, and we moderate our behavior to better fit our environment. Geniuses use masks because the world would reject them if it saw the sheer potential that's inside. We see too much. Light's mind protected him from hurting, and it permitted him to live his teenager years normally, without the burden of such trauma on his shoulders."

Wammy sighed again. "His expression was so cold that I just…"

"Of course he was cold" L gave a humorless laugh. "He couldn't let you, a stranger, see the utter confusion and fear he probably was feeling. He couldn't be seen as weak, or the proverbial wolves would have shredded him to pieces. Everyone is a potential threat for the knowing mind."

The inventor stayed silent, and the detective got back to his skyline watching.

"Something in particular you would like for dinner?" asked Watari in his professional voice, diverting the conversation like L had expected him to do.

"Surprise me."

The old men made to leave the room when he noticed the picture on the screen of one of the computer.

"That is Kir-Light's son?" he asked, moving closer to look better.

"Yes, Nate River. Twelve years old."

"Strange."

L turned around, frowning, noting the other's puzzled expression, the brown eyes fixed on the boy's face.

"What's strange?" he asked, looking back at the picture. He didn't see anything wrong.

"It's just…" the man hesitated, his finger lifting and tracing Near's eyes and nose. "Those are clearly Light's, of course, but the ears… the roundness of the face, the chin and lips…" he traced the parts while he talked, a deep crease of confusion on his forehead.

"I don't see anything wrong" L said, blinking. He was getting confused. "The round face is typical of a child, since the baby fat hasn't gone away yet…"

"I know that, it's just…" Wammy shook his head, straightening, before pursuing his mouth. "I remember Light when he was eleven. Even for a child his face was sharp and angular. Those traits, instead… They remember me of someone else's childhood face. It's just impossible."

"Whose face?"

The old man looked at L dead in the eyes. "Yours."

Mikami was not an anxious man.

He believed in the power of thinking things through, of patience and serenity. His motto was 'time heals everything'. For this reason, he didn't believe in love. It was an emotion not fully explained scientifically, a concoction of hormones and endorphins, and that particular mix could be reconnected with the desire to preserve and guarantee the survival of the species. In a few words, the instinct to fuck with the first person you found attractive.

So love was a strange thing to him. He understood the love he felt for the people he lived in – as his family, the continued proximity coupled with their quiet and smart personality had developed a feeling of fondness that, with time, had become love. This kind of love didn't cause him problems, because he understood it. It was the result of necessary social interaction.

The people he had fucked with hadn't meant anything. Maybe because he had seen them only one time, shared a pleasuring meeting of bodies, and then had gone back to his life. No attachments, no regrets.

He hadn't felt the need to tie himself romantically to another person.

But Beyond. Beyond.

The little – not so little – fiend had kept on pestering him, had forced his presence on him for days, had flirted and pushed him so many times he had lost count.

He had been horny. Of course he had given up. He had had the need to get lied and Beyond had been there, a willing body within reach.

The sex had been mind blowing. Mikami had not known he had a sadistic steak until the night before. He was a doctor, for crying out loud. He was always careful in handling people, both at work and in his bed. To thrust into another with abandon, to grab and squeeze without holding back, to bite and claim… that had been glorious.

And now he was scared.

Mikami was a man of few words. He preferred silence, quiet, and rarely talked outside of the conferences he held at various universities that asked his collaboration. He was a man of few words, and few emotions.

Fear was not something he had felt often in his life.

People were scared of spiders, insects, heights or flying. Everyone had a phobia. Mikami had one too, of course, but he wasn't troubled by it, because it was logical and quiet in the deepest corner of his mind. His phobia was like him, and like him it waited the right time to become problematic.

Mikami feared losing his mind. He was in no danger of becoming insane, of course. He feared the progressive, natural deteriorating of the mind, brought by age. And since he was thirty two, he was at peace. The age of senility was far away.

The only time he had felt true fear was when Near was born.

He remembered it with startling clarity, the impossibility to go to a hospital, the scalpel in his hand, the blood. He hadn't felt ready at all, he had feared that he would make a mistake, that he would kill his best friend and the little miracle he held in his belly.

All had gone well, of course. He had had spent the previous nine months getting ready for that day, and when emotions and fear had gripped him, threatening the entire operation, his trained mind and hand had kept going.

This time was different. He wasn't going to do a caesarian on his male friend to bring a baby into this world. This was not the same kind of fear, not the same nervous intensity he felt racing through his body.

But he was scared. And he felt scared; it meant he cared for the person he was scared about, right?

He was going to kill that devil.

Mikami had been pacing the living room for the last three hours and a half, his mind running through possible scenarios, one more gruesome than the other.

Beyond dead.

Beyond found in an alley, wide-eyed and empty like those children.

Beyond disappearing, never to be found again.

Why had he let the other exit the house with those insane ideas in his head?

Beyond was a bomb ready to explode. Who in their right mind would send him to infiltrate the black market and ask around for children's organs?

No one. Instead, Beyond had decided on his own.

Of course he had. He was so going to strangle him.

Beyond grinned widely, bouncing in place with giddy excitement, a wide empty circle around him, people having moved away after a look at his psychotic behavior.

Silly people. Scared of little old Beyond.

He exited the train at the right stop, and headed back home, humming a popular tune.

He had answers. And with L's resources, they could find his nephew.

He was so proud of himself. He hadn't fucked up. He had actually helped.

Beyond's face was hurting for all his smiling when he reached Light's house. He barely had the time to ring the doorbell that the door was opened and he was grabbed, thrown inside and pushed against a wall.

Ouch.

He forgot everything about his hurting shoulder in favor of losing himself against the lips that had pressed themselves insistently against his own, smothering him in a kiss that made his toes curl. Beyond moaned, and gave a pitiful whine when those lips retreated.

One look at the pissed face of Mikami almost made him run for his life.

"I know how to find Near" he blurted out loudly, hoping to distract the other. It didn't work well.

"Then tonight we'll go to L with your information" said the other, dark green eyes narrowed.

Beyond gulped.

He then let Mikami fuck him again against the wall.

And on the kitchen table.

He had a lot of giddy energy to dispose of, after all.

Light was almost ready to call a cab and go home.

L had of course proposed for him to sleep in one of the room on that floor – because of course the other had rented the whole floor, we are talking about L after all -, so that they could keep on working in the morning, but Light wanted his bed.

Or Near's bed, since he slept there most of the nights.

Furthermore, he didn't trust his restraint.

He hadn't seen L for twelve years, and in those years he hadn't been with anyone. Having him there, more solid and handsome and… He was getting out of hand. Anyway, he didn't want to complicate things. All they had to do for now was find his son.

Then they could talk about their relationship – or lack thereof.

So, Light was ready to go home.

He had tied again his tie, smoothed down his shirt and put on his jacket, ready to go, when the door was opened.

Beyond entered, all droopy eyelids over sparkling red eyes and lazy smirk, his hands behind his head and urged in by Wammy, who was holding a gun to his head, the safety off and his finger on the trigger. Behind them came Mikami with a bored look on his face.

"I told him the gun wasn't needed, but he wouldn't listen" the doctor said, going to sit in one end of one of the couches after a pat of greeting on Light's shoulder.

"Beyond" greeted L, his face hardening and his voice falling flat.

"Brother!" the older twin grinned widely, and Light noticed that his smile had a tired edge. "Could you make the elderly army retreat? I have good news, I swear."

The brothers stared at each other, playful red clashing with dead serious dark grey, before L gave a brief nod to Wammy who, after a dirty look at Beyond, and overlooking the kiss the other sent him, retreated and closed the door behind him, leaving the four alone.

Beyond immediately bounced toward Mikami, settling down along the length of the couch, sneaking his head on the other's lap, who just huffed and left it there.

Light lifted an eyebrow. He had clearly missed something. He then saw Beyond yawn and stretch, his body settling down on the furniture in a boneless heap.

"What got you so tired?" he asked, a little concerned.

"Oh, you know, this, that, infiltrating the black market, saving kittens, having two rounds of amazing sex all around your house…" the other answered, receiving a light slap on the head from an annoyed Mikami.

"Tell them the news, so I can go to sleep" he ordered, all the emotions he had felt that day making him sluggish.

"With me, right?"

"Beyond."

"Oh, fine" Beyond huffed, focusing on the detectives in the room, both with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression. "I know how to find Near."

Light's thought about Beyond and Mikami's relationship flew out of his head faster than his namesake.