Chapter 1: The Return

I do not own Death Note or any of the characters created by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. I'm just a huge fan.

Home

"He's here! The car's just pulled up the drive!"

"Ooh, let me see! It's been ages since he's been back!" I stalked down the cavernous hallway as the younger ones ran ahead of me whooping and hollering and scrambling to peer out of the tall windows on the left hand side. "Jinya! Beto! Quit running! I won't tell you again!" I scolded in English, since it usually made everyone perk up and listen. Especially those who still didn't have its full grasp. They had to listen extra hard.

"Do you think he's brought back presents again?" A gleeful voice peeped from my side, our youngest child, Ella.

I shrugged. "Probably just candy, like you lot don't have enough of that." My foot tripped over a toy robot left carelessly in the hallway and I staggered to regain my balance. "Near! Get your robots, spacemen and aliens out of the hallway this instant! I almost broke my neck!"

"Yeah, Near, pick up your space rubbish!" A voice sneered from one of the bedrooms, and a second later I heard a "whoomf" as Matt got walloped by likely another plastic robot. Near seemed to have an arsenal of them.

I shut my eyes for a second and took a deep breath in an attempt to meditate in the midst of chaos. I wasn't a nanny, governess or anything of the sort. I was just unfortunately, one of the oldest residents of Wammy's House and therefore a full-time guardian to the brood that occupied its walls. None of the kids here were typical, each had amazing gifts that had been detectable when they had been plucked out of orphanages and foster homes around the world when they were barely out of diapers, but all of them knew how to act like normal kids when they were excited. The "hero" coming home was one such occasion.

My eyes opened to see another one of the older ones, Fritz, striding down the hall dressed like the Red Baron in aviator glasses, a thick scarf and riding boots. Not again. I stepped in his way and gave him a stern look. "And just where are you off to?"

Fritz turned sheepish as he grinned down at me, trying to win me over with his Teutonic charm. "Oh Grace, just one quick flight. I've got to test the wind resistance on the new wings! I'll be back before you know it!"

Fritz had matured into quite the handsome chap, but I wasn't swayed. I gestured toward the windows where heavy rain pelted the glass. "If you think I'm going to let you up in the air in these conditions, again, after what happened last time, you're simply mad!"

Fritz sighed and pushed the goggles up onto his forehead. "No one was harmed, G. I don't see why everyone makes such a fuss still about it!"

Yes, perhaps Fritz had had the gods on his side when he plummeted into the stable's hayloft in a crash landing months back, but that didn't make it okay that he had nearly burnt it down and almost gave Clark, the stable master, apoplexy, after he had to rescue him.

"Clark's eyebrows haven't even grown back yet, and you still don't see why everyone is concerned." I threw my hands up in exasperation. "How many ways do I have to say it? No! Non! Nein! You're lucky Wammy allows you to fly when it's sunny!"

Clark had complained to our founder more than once after the "Fritz on Fire" incident that we, the residents of the house, shouldn't be allowed to indulge in any whim we desired, especially since such whims were usually dangerous. Fritz was more an amazing flight engineer than a reckless daredevil most of the time so Wammy had allowed him to keep building his odd plane experiments and turned a blind eye when they subsequently failed. He always encouraged every one of us to keep trying at something if it really caught our fancy, despite any risks involved. He was in charge of a home for gifted children after all, the good man was probably just thankful we weren't always bored.

Fritz kept a defiant glare on me down from his towering height then sighed, defeated. "You are no fun, Grace."

I shrugged, and pushed past him. "I learned that long ago."

As two of the younger kids skipped past me towards the main stairway, I ducked into the grand library at the end of the corridor and shut the heavy oak door behind me. I exhaled and reveled in the perfect silence. It was rare in a house as crowded as ours to have alone time during the day so I didn't take it lightly.

I crossed over to the window seat that looked out onto the front drive and sat to watch the spectacle. A sleek Rolls Royce was parked by the main entrance and most of the residents of the house were milling around it despite the torrential downpour like they were waiting for a glimpse of a pop star. A cheer went up as the driver opened the back door, and I turned away, drawing my knees up to my chest. It must be wonderful to come back to such acclaim as he does. It must be wonderful to get to leave this place at all.

I fixed my gaze on the bookshelves across the room and blinked hard several times. Fritz was right, I was no fun to be around. I didn't tinker with planes or paint masterpieces, I just solved problems. Whether it was mediating an argument between two hot tempered Einsteins or helping Scotland Yard solve a case, it all came naturally easy. Since I was a toddler, puzzles were painfully simple, and figuring out how a story ended after the first plot twist was commonplace. Take it from me, reading fairy tales as a child isn't much of an adventure when you know the moral of the story before anything interesting happens.

I loved using my gift to help others, that wasn't the problem. It warmed my heart to hear that a family finally knew who had murdered their loved one after twenty years because I had discovered the killer. The kids did come to me for advice when they had a dilemma and I felt appreciated time and time again. However, watching him always come home to a bloody party made me more frustrated than I cared to express.

The detective L. He certainly had made his worldly rounds in the past ten years, an enigmatic shadowy figure who solved criminal cases as if they were child's play. No one knew his true identity. Well no one outside of Wammy's for that matter. Unfortunately I of course knew. I had no choice but to know.

The tall door to the library creaked open and I felt the usual pang in the pit of my stomach at the sudden loss of my privacy. But such peaceful times were fleeting and I had learned that long ago with so many other orphan wunderkinds in residence.

"G?"

I turned, and noticed Mihael peek his blonde head in the doorway. I smiled to myself. Mello, as he liked to be called, was one of my favorite kids. He was younger than me and a little wild, but at least he had a heart. There was no doubt that he cared about people, and that was a blessing around the other people who liked to pretend everyone else didn't exist.

"Come in!" I raised my voice and slid down from the window seat.

Needing no further invitation, he burst all the way into the spacious room out of breath and grinning. "Right, you'll never guess whose back!"

I always thought it was funny that people would say "you'll never guess" when they started a sentence, especially at Wammy's House. It was highly unlikely that anyone you'd ask would be wrong with her first deduction. "I don't need to. Unless you've been under a rock all day, you'd have to see that the place resorted to mob rule as soon as the car was sighted. The hero is back, then?"

Mello's smile fell for a second, and then it developed into a smirk. "Don't tell me you still have it down on him from the last time he was here, Grace. You can't still be holding that grudge."

I leveled him with one look. "Well isn't this a case of the pot calling the kettle black. How many months has it been since Near got the better mark on his physics exam? And when have you stopped complaining about it?"

Mello turned sheepish, and stuck his hands in his jean pockets. "Well, this is different. You are still angry at him but no one knows why. What did he do anyway; swipe the last piece of cake or somethin'?"

I shut my eyes and tried to keep the memory at bay. No such luck. Wammy's office. Six months ago. I sat on the edge of my seat by his immense desk, almost bubbling over with eagerness for the new assignment. This one was special. He had only asked the two of us to attend the meeting. Not one or the other, but both. He stood a few feet away, slouched over, hands jammed into his pockets, waiting for Wammy to begin. Quite patiently, I might add. It always seemed like Wammy was the only person he ever respected and everyone knew it.

"I've brought you two here together" Wammy began, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Because the pair of you are the brightest students to ever grace our humble institution."

I felt a little color rush up into my cheeks, but I contained it and smiled gratefully back at him. "Thank you, sir." My fellow housemate still just stared ahead waiting for the niceties to be finished with. Just the facts, like always.

"That being said," he continued. "This new case, the New York kidnapping ring. Its depth and span are unknown. It would be an extreme challenge for one person alone to handle, so I would like the two of you to partner up for this one. Just this once."

I was flattered, needless to say. I had known the twenty-three year old by my side for most of my life. No one had known in the early years what he'd become. His social behaviors were more than odd but his intelligence and reasoning were unparalleled. There was no question that he was emerging as the world's greatest detective, and the fact that Wammy wanted me to work alongside him was an honor. It also said something notable about my own abilities.

I didn't know what to say. "Well, sir, I have no problems with that arrangement." I gave my new partner a small smile. He didn't return it.

Wammy was pleased. "Jolly good. Now, I have prepared a folder with all of the documentation the FBI has disclosed on this case. Please read its contents by this evening when we can meet to discuss it."

I reached for my folder just as the familiar, unaffected voice by my side spoke up. "Watari, you haven't waited for my opinion on this partnership."

I froze in mid reach and Wammy looked a bit ruffled. "My apologies, L. What is your opinion?"

He refused to turn and look at my gaping stare as he responded. "Despite what you claim about the extreme difficulty of the work, I wish to handle this case alone. There is no need for G to get involved. There are plenty of cases here she can tackle. Scotland Yard always needs her. She hasn't had enough experience on the global scale."

Furiously, I glared at him. Why had I opened my mouth so fast and said I was glad to work with him? He was a pompous, chauvinistic git who thought he was too good to work with me. I could see it as clear as day. "Well, my opinion matters as much as yours and I feel I am quite capable to work on a kidnapping ring in the states. I stopped that terrorist bombing in Liverpool after all!"

He scoffed and inspected his bitten nails. "It was one explosive device and the terrorist wanted to be caught. Nothing was ever to be destroyed, he was sending a message. I wouldn't still call him a terrorist after that. He didn't produce terror, more just a headache."

I turned for back up from Wammy, my father figure for twenty years, but he just nodded as if L was infallible. "If you believe you can take it all on by yourself, L. I have no argument. Grace is new to the criminal cases outside of the United Kingdom after all. Perhaps she does need more time."

I was fuming and I wasn't even trying to restrain it. "How sir, may I ask, am I supposed to ever gain experience in the world if I'm never let out into it?"

His eyes were kind but apologetic. "Grace, I am eager for you to expand your horizons, you will truly be a terrific detective consultant. But L is right in saying you lack experience. You are so young after all. The burden may be too large for someone who has only just passed her twenty-first birthday."

To inflame my anger even more, L nodded in agreement and then looked askance into my blazing eyes. "No offense."

Physical violence was never my forte but I really wished I could strike him then, with some force behind my punch. "You don't care if you offend me." I answered with venom. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."

I could have sworn for a second that something flickered in his dark eyes, but I dismissed it as impossible. L wasn't capable of feelings.

Wammy hated fights between his "children" and made an attempt to placate me. "Gracie, L is not recommending you not become involved with this case because he doesn't care about you. He just knows you are young, that is all."

Wammy should have known nothing would've calmed me down then, but being his well-meaning self, that didn't stop him from trying. "I'm sorry, but he went out on his first case with Interpol when he was fifteen. Why is that not too young and twenty-one is?"

Wammy closed his mouth and dropped his eyes. L turned slowly to face me, with the same uninterested expression he always wore. "It might be dangerous." He spoke, placing emphasis the end of his sentence. I laughed in his face.

"Don't patronize me. I can handle danger. I don't need to stay hidden away from all the baddies like you do."

An emotion definitely crossed his eyes then. Anger. Then he controlled himself and pushed his wild black hair out of his face. "That is a necessary precaution. I don't need to end up dead. Who would the world turn to then?"

"Your ego is getting out of hand. Do you think you're the only one the world turns to when there's a problem? The countries turn to their leaders, their investigation agencies, even their Gods before they ask you for anything! You're just one person, why wouldn't you want help? Do you really want to handle everything by yourself?!"

He leaned into my face, irritated. "That's the only way I'll know that everything is done right!"

"Children! Please!" Wammy cried out, as he hurried out from behind the desk and stepped between us. He didn't wilt under the glares the two of us were throwing at each other, and for that, I have to give him credit. "I won't have this shouting under my roof. L, why don't you step out for a moment? I'd like a word with Grace."

L kept his cross look on me for a moment more, then withdrew. "Yes, I'll do that. I have some matters to attend to anyway." He shuffled out of the room, and I watched him go, seething.

The door shut behind him, and Wammy reached for my hand, which he took in both of his rough ones and held me under his pleading look. "Now, my dear, I'm sorry you can't be involved in this mission. It was my greatest hope to have the pair of you working as a team, but L did see the flaws in my plan."

"You just follow his every word, that's all," I answered bitterly, trying to stop myself from shaking. "No one is more important here than the almighty L. It probably stands for Lord for bloody sake."

Wammy looked troubled and I felt guilty. "Grace, that is unfair. I can't see why the two of you can't get on with each other."

I could see. He was a jerk, a selfish know-it all who acted like a child and therefore could have everybody in the house on his side at all times, if he wanted. I couldn't even count the many nights I had to fish a lollipop out of Ella's hand before bed, only to hear "But L gave it to me" or "But L does it!" He was carefree, I was practical. He was allowed to see the world while I stayed confined in this manor house in Winchester. The only similar thing about us was that we possessed the same gift that landed us here in the first place.

"It doesn't matter." I sniffed, slipping my hand from his. "I don't ever want to work with him, and I don't want to know him either!"

Wammy sighed tiredly, and turned to cast his gaze upon the picture that hung above his desk. The first class at Wammy's house, the year after its foundation. There were the five children I'd grown up with arranged in front of the staircase by the entrance. Anne, my closest friend and gifted artist, Fritz, barely able to stand upright but cheekily grinning all the same, Winston, poor Winston who had died of brain hemorrhage at ten smiling kindly, L staring blankly at the photographer, already mastering his vacant expression at the age of five, and a three-year old me, in a black dress and Mary-Janes, with my socks puddled around my ankles looking about to burst into tears. I knew what Wammy meant to say, that the five of us were family. I loved Anne as a sister, felt like Fritz was the charming brother who drove me mad and still cried over the loss of Win, but I had stopped caring about L long ago, when it was obvious he didn't care about me. Wammy softly began to speak.

"I've had such high hopes for all of my children, and you have all excelled in ways that I didn't dare to imagine. But, Grace, the last thing I want is for you to abandon the ones you can't understand. L is brilliant, and I know that is all everyone else sees, but he is so much more than just his intelligence. You know that you are more than just your abilities, you are compassionate, gentle, and accepting, and I am so proud of what you have become. But you have also just avowed that you don't want to know him and that breaks my heart.

He is concerned about the danger of the mission. He is not wrong when he reminds me of that. It causes me to reconsider sending you out in the world yet, even under his wing. Do you know why he plunges himself headfirst into these missions without a consideration of his safety?"

I was subdued, but it didn't stop me from muttering, "Because he's a glory-hog?"

"No, child. Because he knows if something were to happen to him, he wouldn't be leaving any one behind. If something should happen to you, Grace, how would the children get on? They all love you and need you. Ask yourself, do you believe that L thinks that he is needed?"

He silenced me, and I stared back at him with no answer. How could someone not think he was needed? Especially someone as valuable to the world as L? "I-I'll have to think on that." I whispered, passing to the door. "Good night, sir."

Wammy nodded affectionately. "Good evening, Grace." As I turned the doorknob, I saw him direct his eyes back on the old photograph of all of us. I knew he was deeply saddened by the rift between two of his children, but there was really nothing I could do on my own.

I opened the door and jumped back with a hiss when I encountered L crouching on the floor, holding a document from the FBI file in front of his face with his fingertips, his typical reading stance. "What are you doing here?" I demanded, my burgeoning sympathy gone. "Were you spying on our conversation?!"

He lowered the paper and blinked. "No. I'm about to finish reading the dossier, so I thought I'd speak to Watari about it while the case was still fresh in my head. The last thing I wanted to hear was you complaining to him about how I was keeping you from adventure and excitement. Don't you think he has more important things to do than listen to you whinge on?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it again. Why bother? Instead, I made a sweeping bow and gestured toward Wammy's office. "Oh yes, by all means, my whingeing is over. The floor is yours."

He stood up and eyed me quizzically. I nodded in parting, and briskly walked off down the hallway. If he wanted to think that all I was doing in Wammy's office was complaining, I'd rather him think that then know that the only man he respected saw him as a lonely, unloved creature. That kind of revelation would do absolutely nothing for his perception of self, and I wasn't so cruel as to throw that in his face. Even if he wouldn't give that much consideration to me.

"So come on," Mello was persistent as he plopped down backwards in a chair and folded his arms over the back. "What did L do to make you so bitter?"

I tilted my head toward the doorway where I heard obvious shuffling in the hall. Well, well. "Mello, I don't mind you practicing your interrogation skills on me, but don't expect me to give you an answer that easily. I'm not going to say another word about it because I know he sent you in here to ask me. Now, why that should be his first action after coming home is beyond my own reasoning, I was certain it would have been raiding the kitchens for pudding."

Mello's wide eyes took up his entire face. "How on earth did you know?!"

I rolled mine and smoothed my skirt. "You'll learn this soon. You don't get to be second best without being able to know."

I heard slow clapping coming from the hallway and grimaced. Someone had been thoroughly entertained.