Sins of the Brother

Premise: For most of his life, Harry had been paying for something. Whether it was for the imagined slights visited upon his aunt by his mother, or the deliberate hurts his professor suffered at his father's hand. Now, he must pay for the selfish indulgences of an older half-brother he never knew he had.

Warnings: Marital Infidelity, L being L, Smart-ass Harry, Mello (who ALWAYS needs a warning), teen smoking (*cough*Matt*cough*), and Raito's villainous monologuing. OH, and one...count em, ONE O.C. ...a necessary OC, but nonetheless. Forgive me.

Also, Massive Spoilers.

Also, also...currently Unbeta'd.

Disclaimer: Neither series belong to me. The basic premise of this mash up, certainly, but the source material..? No. OH, also...some of the quotes are pulled from the Death Note anime/manga...I am familiar with both, and can't always recall which came from which, so fair warning. Though they may be altered slightly, or used out of context, I still acknowledge that they are originated elsewhere.

.. .. .. ..

"The younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder"-Jane Austen

.. .. .. ..

Prelude to The Fall: My Brother, the Bother

Present Day: Location, Undisclosed

L had never been one to delude himself, about anything. He was the ultimate realist. He knew he was self-indulgent to a disgusting degree, and more than a bit of an asshole, and he was fine with this. His bad posture, and eating habits, and people skills—or his lack thereof—had little bearing on the work he was trying to do. Who cared if he looked a wreck, or stepped on toes and irreparably bruised egos, if cases got solved, and criminals were stopped?

He certainly didn't.

Watari, on the other hand, did care. He cared if L slept enough, or ate his vegetables, or slouched for hours on end, or showered. Watari sighed, and frowned, if he talked down to his clients, or subtly insulted them in that dry, mocking way of his. He honestly despaired that his charge had never managed to retain his many, tedious lessons on manners and proper conduct.

L, on the other hand, didn't see much use in all that nonsense. Sleep, or vegetables, or clean clothes, or manners didn't solve cases. He did. He solved them, and with great efficiency, he might add, and without needing all that fuss.

That wasn't to say he had failed to take in the lessons. Quite the opposite. He knew how to mimic a gentleman in word and action...and could do so, better than any stage actor...he just didn't care to try.

He was indifferent, not idiotic.

"L...it's time." Watari's voice drifted across the dark room, and L glanced over his shoulder at the man, his gaze fixed on the food cart slowly being rolled towards his little spot on the floor.

He held back a wince as his teeth dug into the soft flesh of his thumb, dark eyes sparkling as he took in the succulent curves of the luscious strawberries, perched on a luxuriant bed of frothy, white frosting. The golden hues of the the generous slice of shortcake called to him in a Siren Song of Sugary Sweetness.

How he needed that cake in his mouth. Right. Now.

The man cleared his throat, and L frowned, jerking his gaze away from his prize reluctantly. "L. The children are waiting."

L huffed. The little troublemakers could wait a bit longer, for all he cared. He wanted his cake. L stared up at Watari from his crouch on the floor. The man's gaze was pleasantly blank, but his eyes were hard, unyielding. Well, damn. It looked like his poor cake was to be held as hostage, til he fulfilled his duty to the House's children.

His bruised, wet thumb jabbed at the buttons on his glowing laptop, and his dark eyes bore in frustrated boredom as the screen flickered to life. With a deft flick of his fingers, his electronic voice changer flickered to life.

"Hello."

Dark eyes watched with vague amusement as the crowd of children came to life with excited squeals and laughter. Too much laughter. His lip twitched in a sneer. Watari gently cleared his throat, and L felt his shoulders hunch.

He didn't need to look at the man to know that he was giving him a Look. He could even postulate, down to the percentage, the likelihood of the Look being disapproving, with undertones of 'they are children and it is Christmas,' as if that had anything to do with anything. These children were genii, and potential Heirs...the whole giggling thing had no place in criminal investigation.

. . . .

L's bored gaze dragged to the clock on his glowing screen. An hour. He'd been sitting here, doing this whole nice thing for an hour, and still his cake was being withheld from him. It was far beyond unfair. It was cruel. He tossed a baleful glare over his shoulder at Watari, a finger hovering threateningly over the power button.

His intentions were clear. Either his guardian could relinquish his hold on the desired cake, or L would protest in the only way he could...by 'ruining' the Christmas of all the little brats hanging on his every word. Watari frowned, but gave in, and L felt a surge of triumph. Really, it was too easy.

Roger, as much as he disliked the man—the feeling was unmistakably mutual—at least had no such exploitable weakness. Well, maybe his tea, or his bugs, but L didn't think those were very good bargaining chips, when it came down to it, which is why he'd never tried bargaining with the man, about anything.

He digressed. The cake was his.

L smiled happily, sliding his fork with sensual slowness into the pillowy depths of the golden cake, eyes gleaming as he watched the silky frosting and plump, juicy strawberries give way under the forceful penetration. Watari tsked, and L ignored him, and the prattling child on the other end of the call.

Watari called his devotion to his chosen food obscene, bordering on pornographic. L disagreed. He enjoyed his cake, true, but he'd never actually copulate with his cake. That would be a waste of a perfectly delicious dessert.

He swallowed his first mouthful slowly. Perfection. His eyes glanced up at the screen lazily, taking in the silence. Ah, yes. He was supposed to answer the brat's question. Let's see, what was it..? Something about justice..?

L took another bite of cake, slowly chewing. He set the plate down deliberately, picking up his sugar-thickened tea, and sipping at it. He grimaced at the lukewarm temperature. Behind him, he could hear Watari shifting, wordlessly urging him to just get on with it. He sighed.

"It's not a sense of justice. Figuring out difficult cases is my hobby," L ignored the sharp inhale behind him, tinged with more than a bit of disapproval, " If you measured good and evil deeds by current laws, I would be responsible for many crimes...

"The same way you all like to solve mysteries and riddles, or clear video games more quickly. For me too, it's simply prolonging something I enjoy doing. That's why I only take on cases that pique my interest..." his gaze flickered, quickly taking in the stunned, pale faces of the children listening to him shatter their delusions, " It's not justice at all. And if it means being able to clear a case, I don't play fair, I'm a dishonest, cheating human being who hates losing."

There. They'd asked, and he'd answered. L watched the children shift uncomfortably, lost and confused by their idol's abrupt fall from grace. His gaze flickered to Watari's, staring as his guardian pinched the bridge of his nose, hard, fighting back an aggrieved sigh.

The man, who often scolded him for lying to clients and suspect alike, didn't look too pleased with his attempt at absolute honesty. L bit back a grin. He couldn't say he hadn't tried things Watari's way. If the man didn't like the results, he shouldn't have asked for it.

L turned back to the screen. The children looked downtrodden, quiet. The endless chatter that had dragged on for more than an hour had died away. At least there would be no more questions, not tonight.

Subtle movement at the edge of the screen drew his gaze. There, tucked away in the corner of the room on the opposite side of the video feed, were the boys—Mello, Matt and Near, if he remembered correctly—that had shown so much promise. While Matt played with his hand-held, smoking and ignoring the world around him, the other two stared straight into the camera, seemingly staring L down.

However...L blinked. He felt a grin tugging at his lips. Unlike the others, they didn't wear looks of disappointment or sadness. Their gazes were hard, cruel.

L's gaze was distant, even as the feed flickered and the screen went blank. He continued to smile, his grin stretching his lips wide. He wasn't one for smiling, so he knew that Watari was calculating the likelihood of something unpleasant occurring that would cause such a smile to stretch his lips.

"L...what is it?"

"I found them."

"Them...you mean..?"

"Yes."

The silence was evidence enough of Watari's shock. The man had never said as much, but L knew he feared that he'd never choose another heir...or heirs...after what happened with A and B. He probably would have been right, had those boys been wearing any other expressions than that of hard indifference, of ruthless, detached cruelty.

L leaned back on his heels, tilting his head back to gaze at the ceiling blankly. His voice was low, distracted, as he spoke to his guardian.

"There are...many types of monsters in this world, Watari...monsters who will not show themselves and who cause trouble; monsters who abduct children; monsters who devour dreams; monsters who suck blood, and... monsters who always tell lies."

L felt his guardian's gaze boring into his face. He turned to meet the man's gaze, taking in the solemn expression, and the quiet need to understand. He jerked his gaze away, biting back a sigh of frustration.

"Lying monsters are a real nuisance. They are much more cunning than other monsters. They pose as humans even though they have no understanding of the human heart. They eat even though they've never experienced hunger. They study even though they have no interest in academics. They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love. If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by it. Because in truth, I am that monster."

The silence settled over the pair for a moment. L was not startled when his guardian's voice broke the silence. He had expected the question even as it left the man's lips. "...and those boys..?"

"Yes. That's why I know that they could handle this, being L. Just as I am that monster, so are they."

This time, Watari didn't break the silence that settled between the two of them.

. . . .

It's All In The Past: February 1979-July 1980

Arkadi Morine had been known to many people, by many names. This was understandable. A con man was only as good as his alias, after all.

...and he was a GOOD con man. He had long ago perfected his ability to become his alias, to draw his marks to him. Though he was a striking, handsome man, his looks played a little part in his success. No...it was his devastating brilliance, his dangerous insight, that made him so good at what he did. He was, in his own immodest opinion, the modern day Professor Moriarty.

Arkadi could, with a simple glance, figure out just how to approach a person to get them to react in the desired manner. It would sound like an exaggeration if admitted aloud, but it was true. He'd long ago figured it out, worked out the calculations, the percentages, of how certain approaches would succeed on certain personality types.

For some, he took the serious, academic route. Like for Maria-Luisa.

Maria-Luisa Lawliet, the only daughter of an Italian Socialite and an English Tennis player, was utterly devoted to her books. Unlike her mother or her celebrity father, she had no time for parties or intrigue. She would much rather discuss a book, or an opera, than the latest Hollywood scandal, and for this, her parents found her disappointing.

Thus, James Drakos, an Anglo-Greek gentleman of modest upbringing, who worked as a petty clerk in a small law firm, was born. Though he would happily lie about his position to a less inquisitive mark, he had gone the extra mile, securing an actual position in a small law firm. He knew that this woman was not one who'd overlook an inconsistency, who'd do her own digging. So, he'd dragged his feet, but done what he'd had to do.

The work was demeaning, but made bearable by the knowledge that it was a means to an end. A means to getting closer to Maria-Luisa. His sacrifice paid off, as the young lady proved his estimation of her character true, digging into his job, his employer, with a ruthlessness that would have been unfortunate, had his position been but a lie.

The young lady, secure in her knowledge that her beau was genuine, had quickly fallen into Arkadi's arms in a record-breaking two weeks, and into his bed even sooner than that. He strongly suspected she had been looking for an excuse to break away from her family, but didn't pry. He, after all, wasn't about to complain about the silly girl making his job easier.

Though he enjoyed her amorous company for the month it lasted, he enjoyed her fortune and his freedom more, and felt absolutely no guilt over leaving her behind, pregnant with his child, to face her tyrannical mother. Honestly, it wasn't as if the girl would suffer too much. Maria-Luisa's mother was far more likely to be upset at the loss of a third of her fortune than at the prospect of an illegitimate grandchild. That was just how the bothersome woman worked. So, Arkadi didn't think on it any further.

Instead, he moved on to his next mark, and the next, never thinking of her or his child again, save for once. Sitting in a cozy pub, sipping at a pint of bitters as he nibbled on some chips, Arkadi lazily thumbed through the small stack of gossip rags sitting on the bar next to his pint. It was raining, and he had time to kill, so felt no shame in indulging in a bit of laziness.

It was as he was thumbing through the last mag in the pile that he found it, a small article printed on the third page, covering his former lover's death

A Family's Shame: The Rise and Fall of Maria Lawliet, Public Darling.

By Morris Frankland

In the early hours of 1st November, 1979, friends and family of the daughter of the well-known Tennis Star, Edmund Lawliet, and his Italian-wife, Grazia dii Savidiis-Lawliet, suffered a terrible loss, when young Maria-Luisa Lawliet died, after a difficult childbirth.

The name of the infant, born a minute to midnight, 31st October, has not been released to the press. The child, the illegitimate child of an unnamed lover, was surrendered to authorities early this morning by the bereaved grandparents, much to the public's shock.

"After the recent loss of our daughter, we find ourselves in a difficult position...dealing with the death of our child, and saddled with the responsibility of a newborn. At this time, we feel it too difficult to take care of the infant. We hold no ill will towards the child or the unnamed father, but instead hope that the child may grow up out of the public eye, and away from the stigma of his birth," said Mme. Lawliet, in a statement to the press.

A friend of the deceased Maria-Luisa, who wishes to remain anonymous, had this to say: "It's just as well that the child was put in Care. Maria had no real desire for kids, I don't think. She only kept it because it was a reminder of her lover, who she thought might come back to her, if he knew she had his kid. Once she figured out he wasn't interested, she probably would have given the kid up, anyway."

Though this statement remains speculation, one thing is perfectly clear: with a family seemingly so unconcerned with his well-being, the baby is probably better off growing up away from his birth family, and the public eye.

Arkadi, though surprised at the death of his lover, was not at all moved. Death came for us all, at one time or another. He was just glad that he hadn't been saddled with his son, as he had no time for children in his particular line of work.

This was later, though.

The actual night of his lover's death and son's birth, Arkadi, in the guise of a Japanese-born artist, Hideaki Takeshi, was entertaining his latest mark, who had been notably more difficult to talk into bed.

Lily Potter, nee Evans, wasn't so much born into money as married into it, and unhappily, at that. Her marriage was the culmination of years of courting, of endless struggle, of girlhood romantic fantasies, and it was a huge bust. It had been the work of months, but he'd heard the whole tedious, pitiful tale of a school boy's infatuation, and a teenage romance, a rushed marriage, and the bitter fallout.

Apparently, once the rose colored glasses came off, her husband wasn't that perfect, after all. He was still the "insufferable toe-rag" he'd been in school, except now, he had no parents to answer to, and a fortune to back up his 20-something ego. Blah, blah...and still an unrepentant womanizer, blah. Like he said, tedious.

Still, he'd listened to every painful detail, feigning interest with every bit of his talent. Lily Potter, and her husband's net worth of ₤300 million, was worth every second of tedium. The fact that the family was both intensely private and relatively unknown in much of High Society made the chase all the more thrilling for Arkadi.

Still, he'd felt his impatience growing, daily. It had taken a great deal more restraint than he thought he had not to jump the gun, so to speak, and try his hand at bedding her. He'd done the calculations. He knew if he moved too fast, or pushed too hard, she'd lash out, or lose interest. For her, Arkadi—well, Takeshi—was a means of escape, of letting go of marital expectation. For Lily, it wasn't necessarily sexual, though he could tell she was less opposed to the idea than was comfortable for her.

Still, he didn't push. She was the courting type, that was clear. He'd need to take his time with her, less he lose her altogether. So, he had. He'd listened, and sympathized, and been friendly, and taken her on dates couched as friendly outings. He was so romantic he impressed himself, though he honestly found it all nauseating and trite.

In the end, the waiting was worth it, as it was she who seduced him, and quite enthusiastically. Apparently, a few pints and a burlesque show at a local Cabaret was just titillating enough to do the trick. After all his bother being romantic, it was the one, random night of hedonistic indulgence that did it. How...frustrating.

Still, it did the trick, so he wasn't going to complain too much. At least not out loud. No, he held his tongue, saving all vocal outburst for their tumbles between the sheets. Truly, it was intensely satisfying to his ego to be so desired. Even more satisfying, however, was getting his hands on her account information.

...though, for some reason, her personal accounts held a lot less than he expected. Maybe her husband trusted her less than she thought, or kept his money elsewhere? He didn't think about it, much...

Not that he'd not tried to think on it, just...he couldn't seem to stay focused. Maybe he was trying to do too much. It was the only explanation for why he always seemed to forget appointments he'd made, til last minute, til he was trying to take the time to sit down and look into her bank records.

Still, he'd made himself a good fortune in cash, stock, and valuables, so called it time well spent. Not to mention the sex. That was definitely a pleasant side benefit, he could admit, though definitely not enough to stick around for.

Just as with Maria-Luisa, he left Lily without a word or thought, distracted with plans for the funds sitting in wait in his Swiss bank account. Just as with Maria-Luisa, he left behind more than an angry, scorned lover to whom he gave nary a thought.

It was too bad he didn't bother to take into account this lover's cleverness, or resourcefulness. She had been a means to an end, a thing, and that was his mistake. One that he regretted as he stared through the bars of his dank, cramped cell. One that he regretted as the...the...things, the monsters, floated past his tiny prison, dragging forth his every nightmare, until he breathed his last, tortured breath.

. . . .

Lily stared at her growing belly with a sense of wonder. Sure, she knew where babies came from. Still, that didn't stop her from being amazed every time she felt the gentle bump of her baby's foot against her hand, stretching the skin of her abdomen just enough to see the movement. Now, if only James could get his head out of his arse.

She sighed. She wasn't dumb. She knew why James was feeling angry and resentful. She got it. She had slept with a stranger—not once, but numerous times, and was now happily having his kid. Still, that didn't make her child any less of a gift.

Also, it wasn't as if she didn't know about what he and Sirius had been up to with Dorcas Meadowes a few weeks ago. So, the whole thing with James being fussy about sleeping with someone else, well...

That was the cask calling the cauldron black, wasn't it?

Lily leaned back against her headboard, lifting her book and propping it against the large curve of her belly. The spine of the book creaked as she slowly opened it, and she smiled. There was something about the musty smell of books, the crinkle of the thick pages, the old leather bindings, that held more magic for her than any spell she'd learned at Hogwarts.

Her son kicked, again, shifting restlessly. Lily's hand smoothed over the curve of her stomach, and she winced at the accompanying twinge in her back. "Hush now, darling. Mummy's back can't take any more of that right now."

Her darling boy didn't stop, however. His movements, like a swirl of butterflies and the sloshing of water in a cauldron, was distracting, as were the twinges racing up her back. Lily shifted against the headboard, tugging her pillows more firmly under her back. Once her boy realized she was settling down to read, he too would calm down, she was certain.

Only...an hour passed, then another, and there was no end in sight for the child's restlessness, or the pain that followed in its wake.

"Honestly, darling. What has you in such a fuss?"

As if in reply, her water broke, and Lily felt all her hard-won calm disappear. "Oh..."

. . . .

Note on Arkadi's fate: You all might think his punishment is a bit...harsh...considering his crime (as do I), but consider this. To the pure-bloods in charge, he is but a thieving, conniving muggle, who seduced the "poor, misguided muggle-born" wife of a wealthy, influential peer. Of COURSE they are going to overreact. Of COURSE they are going to break some rules to see their version of justice done. Just look at what happened to Sirius. He, at least, had the benefit of being a wealthy pure-blood, and even that didn't save him from being thrown into prison without a trial. If Sirius couldn't get a trial, let alone a fair one, they sure as hell aren't going to bother giving one to a muggle con man who robbed and "shamed" a peer from an influential family.

Notes on my choice of OC: L is canonically considered by the manga-ka to be ¼ English, ¼ Russian, ¼ Japanese, and ¼ French OR Italian. This, obviously, gives me lots of leeway to play with L's parents, who remain a mystery, in canon. Just to clarify, I made L's mother Anglo-Italian and his (and Harry's) father Russo-Japanese.

[end]