Want it. Take it. Love it. Keep it.

A/N: In which L finds out something about Mello's past.
And poor Watari is at a loss with what to do with his child.

Evermist: I'm going to give you a lot more reasons to hate the old bastard in the next few chapters! And you're welcome. The story was so cute! I always have to give credit where credit is due...


CHAPTER 15
PLEASE EXPLAIN

L had not been allowed to help carry the teen out of the room. The nurse had been called up, along with Matt, who'd been loitering in the hall when the screaming started. The boy had given L a glare that would have been terrying if not interrupted by the ever present goggles to hide the coldness in his eyes. Roger could hang for all the detective cared, but he couldn't stand to think that any of the children think poorly of him, especially one of his favorites.

Wammy's office was cheerier than Roger's. It was decorated with various college degrees (in multiple areas) as well as awards for achievements in his original career as an inventor. Some of his more interesting inventions were displayed throughout. L felt so proud whenever he sat in this room. If anyone was on his level of intelligence and achievement, other than Mello of course, it had to be this man. The father he never had (considering that he did not remember the one that had donated his DNA).

Watari had arrived just as the teen had blacked out, looking very confused and concerned. He'd seen Roger, looking more ruffled than usual (which was saying a lot), and had himself stopped his surrogate child from crossing the room. He was very perceptive, and knew that the anger that showed clearly on his colleague's features was directed towards L. He asked no questions, simply stepping aside to allow Mello to be lifted off the floor and carried out of the room. Roger had followed, telling L that he had could explain the situation himself. Roger was going to see that the teen was in stable condition, then have at least one stiff drink, possibly even somewhere off grounds.

Watari had waited for his charge to dress, both of them silent. The young detective let himself be led downstairs, head hanging, hands in his pockets. He still had not looked the older man in the eyes, fearful of what he might see there. If there was anger, it would be devasting. Disappointment, however, could be a killing blow. He had seen that less than a handful of times, no matter how badly he misbehaved. Even though he felt, without any doubt whatsoever, that this was not something to be ashamed of, if Watari decided to hate him then his life might as well be over.

"Please, child, look at me. I won't have this conversation with the top of your head."

L took several deep breaths. They'd sat in silence for exactly nineteen minutes and twelve seconds. This was very uncommon. As equal geniuses they always had something to talk about. This was the very first time that L did not look forward to the conversation. He chewed his thumb, gnawing at the skin around the nail, finally tasting some blood. The pain grounded him somewhat, giving him enough courage to finally tilt his head upward. Fear and shame were so foreign to him. He had an overwhelming urge to spring out of his seat to beg for a comforting embrace. He recalled that last time he'd felt the need for a hug from his father figure was when a criminal he had been about to bring to justice had hung himself the evening before his sentencing. Justice had been thwarted by merciful death. He did not believe in capital punishment, as it was an escape. He felt he could do with an escape just then, since he was certain that he would not be receiving any offers of human comfort.

"Boy, for once I am at a loss. I can come to conclusions on my own, seeing as how you were completely nude, Mello is being treated for severe blood loss, and Roger has driven to town for an evening at the bar. However, I would rather hear a proper explanation."
It was then that L gave the quickest version of the story that he could, starting all the way back at his twenty-third birthday and the thoughts he'd been having. Though near the end of the tale, which was reaching half an hour, L did something both men had not expected. Something Watari had seen only once before, when L was very young. The man dropped to his knees on the floor, forehead practically touching the carpet. He finished his story through sobs that left him breathless. His tears stung his eyes so much so that they were sore, hard to keep open. His head had begun to throb from it. His whole body shook. He had seen and heard so many things that would've made most people react this way, all the while remaining calm and seeing things with scientific eyes. He was just so lost. He thought of the children at his first orphanage, crying where were they, where was mommy and daddy. This was what they must have felt.

"You realize that what you have been doing is wrong?" He was not scolding, merely stating a fact. Even so, the old man was crossing the room to kneel next to the man, his child, pulling him into a hug. The detective laid his head on the old man's chest, and was rewarded wirh the the stroking of his tangled mess of jet black hair.

"No."

L tensed in the embrace, ready to be cast away. He was not going to agree, not even with Watari. It couldn't be wrong. Nothing was going to change his mind, even if the ordeal really did kill him. He supposed if Roger had his way that it would. He envisioned himself hung in the front yard, dangling from a tree branch as he suffocated. Most hangings did not result in the snapping of the neck. The victim, more often than not, had to suffer his last breaths as he helplessly swung, onlookers morbidly cheering and counting how long it took. If you were lucky, you'd black out in a few moments. Your last sight the devilish vision of the hooded hangman awaiting your pair of boots. Some countries still practiced this form of execution. At least the guillotine was out of use these days, though it was probably a much more bearable way to exit this plane of existance.

"Mello is going to be alright, physically."

Watari imagined that the stubborn teen, if concious yet, was indeed giving his caretakers what for. He hated to be tended to for even the slightest injuries, having always been self-reliant. He'd once had to have stitches after a brutal game outdoors. He'd first wanted to clean the wound himself, then had even asked if he could do the procedure. Presumably, he'd have done alright, though he was denied the chance. Emergency first aid was one of the many subjects meticulously covered in the children's education.
"I have done no damage to his mental state."

Watari hesitated, choosing his response carefully. "L, you described what you had been doing before Roger's interruption as 'making love'. This description does not make sense where the boy's injuries are concerned. There was quite a lot of blood. I saw this with my own two eyes."

It would be rather embarasing for anyone to explain, but L had to make Watari understand. He could not have him believe that he would ever hurt Mello, intentionally or accidently. "I believe that the force with which Roger separated us may have led to that. It has never happened. I would not allow it to. I get no pleasure from inflicting pain, especially not where he is concerned."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Damn it, L thought.

"We were still.../connected/...when Roger pulled us apart. Rather forcefully. Extracating oneself from that kind of connection requires extreme care. Homosexual couples are at a severe disadvantage in that respect." He hoped Watari understood. He'd made it as clear as possible, while attempting to not be explicit in his explanation. Watari must have indeed understood, since his mouth opened in a little 'o' of realization.

"You must admit child, that the scene was indeed...shocking." The old man considered himself very fortunate that he had not come in when he had first heard the commotion. He had seen both the boys nude, having watched each grow up. The detective was so comfortable around him that he often dressed when Watari was in the room. Yet somehow, he imagined the scene would have been too much to take in. It was difficult for any parent to see their child as a sexual being. Even now, seeing the dark haired man's neck decorated with perfect little imprints of the blonde's teeth, having seen similar marks decorating his lower belly and hips.

"The only part of it all that I find shocking is that you insist on taking that bastard's stance on the matter." L was surprised at himself, to a degree. He never directly lashed out at Watari. When advice was given, he either took it into careful consideration, or ignored it completely, depending on how agreeable he was feeling at that particular moment. This was far different, however, than the old man suggesting that perhaps he ought to bathe more often, or to please not taunt the nice criminal. Watari was implying that the beautiful act he had been sharing with Mello was not only wrong, but...disgusting. How dare anyone try to cheapen this? They had no right to an opinion.

"Please, for once in your young life listen to someone else."
"My dear Wammy, do you have any idea how many boys Mello's age are currently engaging in sexual relationships, in this very building?" The detective had never been one to worry over the private lives of the students. It had always been Roger's job, that's what Watari had picked him for, he was so damned /nosey/. However, L did notice the signs, and Mello was kind enough to fill in the details if he'd heard some interesting gossip, or had to find a different bathroom because a couple had locked themselves in. It was only natural for teenages to let their hormones get the better of them.

"I do my best to ignore it, as long as they are not harming themselves in any way. However, neither party is ever a man that is ten years the senior in the partnership. Has it crossed your mind that Mello has always looked up to, since he was a very small child? Did you consider that perhaps he does not know how to distinguish his feelings of respect and admiration, from that of a romantic nature? Students often develop 'crushes' on their teachers." Watari had come to realize that L really did believe what he was saying, he had very deep feelings for the boy. There was a good chance that this had been the first time the boy had felt romantic towards anyone. The father in him had to cast aside his concern for the teen, if only for a moment, because he was now very worried that the detective was going to have his heart broken. L expressed, and dealt with, emotion differently than most, but he did have emotions (as much as he hatd to admit it). This could very likely devastate him when it ended, and surely it had to. If only he could make L understand.

"You of all people should be able to accept this. We've had a number of discussions on ethics and social norms. In some societies, there are practices that terrify and disgust others. It is only imposed social morals that make you and Roger feel the way you do. I have always seen you as someone who matches my own intelligence, if not surpasses it. However, your opinion is...stupid. Utterly ridiculous."

"You can not love this child. And he is going through a time where his feelings are made more intense by hormones. Add to that the fact that he is an orphan, who would naturally seek the love that they feel has been denied. And you are someone who he strives to be like."

"You still don't understand." L had lain there through the discussion, his head now resting in the old man's lap. The comforting touches had not yet ceased, yet with each word he was beginning to regret seeking the contact, to regret pouring his soul out to another who just couldn't see past the circumstances to the depth beneath. He scooted away from Watari, cursing himself when he felt a little colder again, a little more alone.

"It is you who does not understand." The old man sighed. Despite how he tried to look at this from the outside, to be the rational adult, it was pulling him apart. He didn't know who he ought to feel more sorry for. But this had to stop. "Have you ever reviewed any of your potential successors' files? The areas about their time before they came here in peticular?"

"Why should I? I know their names and birthdates. The rest of the details are of no importance to me." The boys had all been too young to remember their past lives, L included. He could not picture his parents' faces, had seen photographs possibly twice in his lifetime. It had not effected the person he had become.
"I believe that Mello's past plays a much larger role in this than you realize." When the blonde had first been brought into his care, the signs of abuse had been obvious, the physical and emotional. He was covered in bruises, hated to be touched, screamed when any adult male came close. He was brought to a therapist who specialized in such cases, though he never responded to questioning. He had been too young to understand /what/ had happened to him, and as time when on, he seemed to /forget/ completely. Watari did not know if the stubborn child had completely suppressed the memories, though the phychologist had suggested that the denial was indeed genuine after just a few months. It had been decided to let the boy forget, at least until a time when he was old enough to properly deal with the news.

"Please explain."

The old man carefully pushed himself up from the floor, his legs having begun to go numb from the position. L still had no interest in reading the large stack of papers that were being handed to him. The first page had the expected - a birth certificate, forms with Quillsh Wammy and Roger Ruvie's signatures for transfer to the boy's new home. There were a few photographs of Mello, and two equally blond young people that resembled him. He looked very much like his father, though the color of his mother's eyes were an exact match. He also shared the ferocious, cat-like grin of his father, though it looked much more frightening plastered on that face than the one L had come to adore.

Watari was making an obvious effort in averting his eyes. L continued on, curiosity now piqued. There were more pages of boring details, then something unexpected. There were police reports in L's file too, though they simply detailed the deaths of his parents.

"He was sexually assaulted." Watari had not needed to confirm this. The detective was now seeing the proof with his own eyes. There were the police reports, as well as documents from a nearby hospital, photos included. There were results of several psychological evaluations, hand-written notes in the margins. "His own father was the offender. On numerous occasions." It had been years since Wammy had last looked at these reports, yet he could recite them by memory. Even now, he could have closed his eyes and seen the pictures in vivid detail.

Mello had always been a violent, unpredictable boy. His history explained why he was always prone to anger, set off by even the slightest of trigger. His behavior made sense, if one were to consider post traumatic stress and repressed memories. Finally an explaination of the disturbing incident that occured on Mello's birthday...

"I must see him." L closed the folder, returning it to it's home in the filing cabinet. He did not need to see any more.
"I can not allow you to do that." L only blinked.
"Maybe so. But I will see him regardless."