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

A/N:
Mello remembers.


WARNING: Mentions of child abuse and incest. Not your thing? Leave now or forever hold your peace.

Ye be warned.

Evermist and chelzi: I have no words for the awesomeness that is you so I'm just gonna say, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!


CHAPTER 19


BE STILL/SAILBOAT ON A WINDLESS DAY

After leaving Roger's office, L was feeling rather pleased with himself. Too bad he didn't know that on his way to see his lover for the first time in days, a storm was brewing and was about to turn into a full on natural disaster...

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"Mello, can I get you anything? Water? Are you hungry?" The man asked, sitting down in the chair next to his bed. "By the way, I'm Doctor Knight." The doctor held out his hand with a smile. Mello just glared at him until he drew back and took out his little notebook. He'd have walked out right there if it had been any other time but since he'd been so 'disorderly', they'd deemed it neccessary to keep one of his wrists cuffed to the bed at all times. Like a common fucking criminal. And this was his interrogation. Just fucking lovely.

A psychiatrist, Roger had said. To help him 'sort out his head' so he could 'move on from this whole mess'. What. A crock. Of shit. There was nothing to sort out, his head was in perfect working order. It was /their heads/ he was worried about. What the hell did they mean, /'move on'/? Were they seriously going to separate them? For good? Mello closed his eyes and bit down on his lip hard, wincing slightly at the taste of copper on his tongue. No, that wasn't possible. They /couldn't/ do that to him...Could they?

"Mello, what are you thinking about?" Dr. Knight asked. Another glare but the man didn't seem at all phased. He must deal with troubled teenagers a lot. That didn't mean shit. He could have all the experience in the world, he hadn't dealt with Mello yet. The blonde wondered if the poor man knew what he'd gotten himself into? Had anyone even bothered to warn him? "Mello, are you going to answer me?" More silence. The man sighed. "That's fine. We have all day. You just start talking when you're ready..."

"Fuck you."

Instead of chastising him for his language, the doctor smiled. "That's better," he said. "You can say whatever you want in here, and no one will get you into trouble, I promise. Everything you tell me will be our little secret." Mello glared but the man just kept right on smiling.

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you, Mello. I want to help you help yourself. Is that okay?" Mello rolled his eyes. Didn't this moron know that basic psychology was part of the required curriculum here at Whammy's? And Mello was in his third year.

"And just how the hell do you think you're gonna do that?"

Dr. Knight took a chocolate bar out of his bag, held it out to the blonde. "Here, I know its your favorite." Mello smiled and took the candy from him but as soon as the man had settled back into his chair, the boy threw it across the room.

"I don't want /anything/ from you," he growled. Anyone else would be inimidated. The doctor just seemed...amused.

"That's fine too. I just thought it might help. Having the things that comfort us sometimes helps when we talk about these kinds of things..."

"What things?"

"Things like what your mentor has been doing to you."

Mello lunged at the doctor, jerking the handcuff around his wrist so hard that it moved the bed at least a half an inch along the floor, "Fuck you!" he screamed, spitting in the man's face. Dr. Knight didn't even flinch, just took out a tissue to clean himself off before trying again. Persistent motherfucker.

"Mello, I already told you. Nothing you say here will be repeated to anyone you don't want to hear. If you talk to me about the things he's been doing to you, I can see to it that it never happens again. And he'll never be able to punish you for it."

"You sick, twisted, son of a bitch," the blond seethed. The cuff was still pulled tight, metal digging into his skin. He knew there would be blood soon but didn't care. "How dare you? How /dare/ you talk about him like that? He hasn't done /anything/ to me!"

"You're caregiver has told me a different story, as well as many other witnessess. I know you feel like you have to lie for him, maybe he threatened to hurt you? It doesn't matter, Mello. As long as you tell us, he - "

"He's not fucking hurting me! He /loves/ me!"

"Mello, please listen - "

"No, shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he screamed over and over but Dr. Knight kept going, in that calm textbook tone.

"What he does to you is not love. I know this is all very hard for you to understand, or maybe you feel ashamed that you fell for his tricks, and the things he forced you to do but given your history, you were more succeptable to his power. He may have known, and used that against you - "

Mello stopped, "Wait, what?" he asked.

"I was saying that L may have used the information in your file to make you more - "

"No, you moron. My history. /What/ information in my file? What the fuck are you talking about?" The man didn't aknowledge the insult.

"The sexual abuse you suffered as a child."

Mello actually laughed. "Is that what all this is about? You think that since L and I are together, that I was molested when I was a kid? Wow, you guys are really reaching..."

"No, Mello. I think that L used the knowledge that you had been sexually abused in order to make you more compliant to his will."

"You've got it all wrong, doc. I wasn't abused."

"Yes, Mello, you were," the doctor said.

"Okay, I was kind of amused by your juvenile psychological generalization at first but, now its getting old. I don't know about all your other patients but, I'm too smart for you to convince me that things happened when they didn't just so you can get me to say what everyone wants to hear."

"Mello, you're the one who's got it all wrong. You /were/ sexually abused as a child. Its all in your file but it seems you've repressed your memories to protect yourself."

"I'm not /repressing/ anything!" Dr. Knight reached into his bag again and took out a folder. Scrawled accross the cover in messy cursive was his name. His /real/ name. Mihael Keehl. "Where the hell did you get that?"

"Roger gave it to me to look over so I could make a proper diagnosis. Its your records from your life before you came to Whammy's." He laid it on the bed beside Mello's thigh. "I'll leave you alone for a moment so you can look it over. I think there are some things you've forgotten, or forced yourself to forget that are better /remembered/."

After the doctor had gone, Mello grabbed the folder, laid it out over his lap, determined to prove the man wrong. He'd made a mistake, that was all. He'd gotten someone else's file mixed up with Mello's but he'd set it right and then set them right about L too.

The first page was his birth certificate, telling him that Milena Keehl (Maiden name: Ivonivic, age 17) had given birth to a boy, Mihael Ilija Keehl, at 7:32PM on December 13th, 1989. Weight at time of birth: 6lbs, 7 oz. Place of birth: Dr. Mladen Stojanoviæ Hospital in Zagreb, Croatia (Yugoslavia at the time). Father's name: Aleksander Keehl (age 25). All of these things, he knew. So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Clipped to the corner of his birth certificate were four faded photographs. The first was of his mother holding him for the first time in the hospital. The second, of his parents on their wedding day. In the third he looked to be about two, his mother holding him while the three posed in front of their home. In the last photo, only he and his father stood in front of the camera. Mello had been five, his mother had died the year before. From what, he wasn't sure, he could only remember the sadness that he and his father had felt for her loss.

Mello didn't even realize he was crying until he tasted saltwater on his lips but immediately wiped the tears away. It was pointless. If tears were the price of bringing someone back from the dead, he'd paid in full several times over.

Next were the documents signed by Mr. Qullish Whammy and Mr. Roger Ruvie that released Mello into their custody.

He flipped through the next several pages, finding nothing of importance, until...he found an police investigation report written in Croatian. Another from the police there in England. He began to read through both, eyes widening as he went along.

No. This wasn't possible. His father would never have...No, no, no, no, no. This couldn't be right. There had to be some sort of mistake.

But the medical reports were telling a different story.
/Mihael Keehl, age 5. Arrived with numerous cuts and heavy bruising. Internal bleeding. Severe internal lacerations and scarring. Treated for infection with antibiotics. Samples of blood and semen were taken from the child's body and clothing to be sent for processing. Child is fearful of physical contact and prone to violence when approached, especially with the male staff. Signs of prolonged sexual abuse./

Pictures had been taken of him in the hospital of the bruises and cuts all over his naked body.

A copy of a lab test result showing that the sample of semen taken from his body, and one taken from his father were an exact match.

There were evaluations from several psychologists.

Then another police report, this time for the arrest of his father. Mug shots (had his father always looked so /evil/?). Iterrogation transcripts...a written cofession to the things he'd done to his son. A side note in the margin detailed that /Aleksander Keehl often smiled or seemed pleased with himself as he described in disturbing detail, several accounts of the abuse/.

There were transcripts of the trial. His father had been found guilty on all charges and sentanced to 30 years in prison but was murdered by his cell mate after only 7. Mello had been told that his father was killed in a car accident. He'd been alive all that time? They'd /lied/ to him...

Tears ran down Mello's cheeks but he was too stunned to brush them away, or even notice them at all, for that matter. He shook his head. No. This wasn't right. His daddy /loved/ him. His daddy took care of him, and played with him, and read him bedtime stories...If this was true, then why didn't he remember -

His eyes caught something in one of the psychiatric
evaluations. /"After several months, Mihael began to show signs of amnesia for the memories of his abuse. It is unlikely that he will regain them. No further therapy should be needed."/

But as he read the words, he /did/ remember. He remembered everything. He remembered the pain, the fear he felt every night when his father would come into his bedroom to, 'kiss him goodnight'. He remembered the shame he felt afterward. He remembered the anger he felt towards his father for what he'd done to him. He remembered the anger he felt toward himself for letting it happen.

His daddy didn't love him. His daddy loved to /fuck/ him.

All of the emotions, the memories, the pain came flooding back at once, hitting him like a tsunami. He suddenly couldn't breathe, the room began to spin around him. He was dizzy and scared and confused and he felt like the walls were closing in on him. He had to get away so he yanked on the cuff around his wrist but it didn't budge. He tried again. Nothing happened, and he started to panic, jerking his arm back and forth until he could feel something warm and wet and sticky on his hand but he didn't care because he wasn't in the infirmary at Whammy's anymore. He was five years old again, tied crucifixion style to his bed. The ropes were digging into his wrists and there was blood everywhere. His father was making him say Hail Mary's while he raped him.

And he screamed. Or at least he would have if he could have drawn enough breath into his lungs to be capable of such an action. Then the room was spinning again and there were people everywhere, voices, male and female, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He had. To get. Away.

Then one very familiar voice broke through the chaos loud and clear. There were warm gentle arms around him, holding him. His eyes focused on pale skin, scared blue-grey eyes, wild black hair.
Oh. It was L. L was holding him. L was here now, he was safe.

"Mello, be still now. I've got you. Please be still." L's voice was calm and soothing as ever, and Mello smiled, allowing himself to relax in his lover's arms. "You can sleep now, love. I promise not to let go..."

So Mello closed his eyes, and let the world slip away.

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L was angry. No, L was positively /furious/ as he paced back and forth before the hospital staff, ranting and raving over their incompetance as medical professionals. They could do nothing but stare back at him, absolutely terrified. It was a good thing that the psychiatrist wasn't present or he might have killed him. As he went on, Watari stood back, making a mental check list of all the curse words in the English language. His child had managed to fit nearly all of them into his little tirade.

"I fucking /told/ you - no, /ordered/ you not to put him into those restraints again and you /deliberately/ disobeyed! If you are so ignorant that you can not follow a simple instruction, I have no other option than to terminate your employment at this institution!"

"What?!" one of the doctors cried.

"You're fired! All of you! Get the hell out of my sight before I have you forcibly removed from the premesis!"

One of the male nurses actually had the gall to step forward and protest. "Now, you wait just a minute. We all know what you did to that boy in there. If you fire us, we'll go to the police."

"Go ahead! I'm L! I /am/ the police! If you'd like to file a report against me, by all means, go ahead. Watari, why don't you take this nice gentleman to your office. I believe he has a complaint. Tell him that I'll be sure to get back to him with my findings when I'm finished investigating myself."

"You /raped/ that child and I for one will not allow you - "

No one will ever know how that sentance was supposed to end because when that man hit the ground, he couldn't remember what his name was, let alone what he was going to say.

"I did not rape him! I would never, ever do anything of the sort! I /love/ him! I /adore/ him! And if one more of you bastards try to accuse me of committing such a despicable act, I swear on everything that my lover finds holy, you will regret it!"

Before he left, L turned to Watari. "Give these people their severance pay, then escort from the building. If I come back in here and they have not left, I will be very, very cross."

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When Mello woke up, he found himself curled up against L's side, his head on his shoulder, right over the older man's heart. The detective's arm was wrapped tight around him, his right hand stroking Mello's soft blonde hair. The boy pressed his face into L's soft white shirt, breathed in his sweet scent - a mixture of strawberries, frosting, and English tea. He decided that he'd never felt so safe in his whole life.

"You're awake," L said. Mello nodded. "Do you still want me to hold you, or would you be more comfortable with me in the chair next to the bed?" The blonde pushed himself closer, wrapping his leg around both of L's. The detective kissed the top of his head and held him a little tighter. "As you wish. But if at any point you want me to leave, just say the words and I will."

"Why would I want you to leave?"

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to be in contact with another man after what you read in your files."

"You're not just another man. You love me. You wont hurt me. I know that. Please don't leave me." Mello noticed that his left wrist had been covered with a cast. "What happened?"

"You broke your wrist when you became hysterical. If I'd known they'd restrained you again, I would have - "

Mello lifted himself enough to silence L with a kiss. He smiled. "I know."

"They've been removed from the building. I will not allow anyone to hurt you again. I promise."

Mello kissed him again. "L?"

"Yes?"

"I know."

They were silent for a long time, just listening to eachother breathe. L didn't know what to do, what he could say to make everything alright again so, as always, he settled on the first thing that came to his mind. "Albert Einstein once said that he liked to take his sailboat out on the water on a windless day because he liked the challenge..."

Mello raised his head from L's chest to look at the older man, one eyebrow quirked. "L. Sometimes, I think that you might be stark raving mad." L just laughed.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't stand the silence and I didn't know what else to say." The detective brought his hand to his mouth and began to nibble on the pad of his thumb but Mello pulled it away and kissed the spot.

"No. It was perfect." He kissed L's lips, then lay back down, closing his eyes.

"Mello?"

"Hmm?"

"I think trying to sail a boat on a windless day is a challenge that I would like you and I to take on together."

Mello kissed L's chest through the white cotton shirt, right over his heart. "I love you, L."

"I love you more."

"Don't start..."


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A/N: I did some research and the name Mihael (Michael in English) is of Croatian descent so the names I chose for Mello's middle name (Ilija, the Crotian form of the Hebrew name, Elijah, which means 'The Lord is my god'), Mello's father's name (Aleksander), and Mello's mother's name (Milena Ivonovic), are all Croatian as well. Also, Dr. Mladen Stojanoviæ Hospital (Now known as Sisters of Charity Hospital but not until 1992) is an actual hospital, one of the oldest in eastern Europe, in Zagreb, Croatia.