Chapter Note: I really love this chapter. I'm slowly going to add the other canon Wammy's Boys, but don't worry, Gertie isn't gone forever. I'll update that part next. From here on out, I'm going to shoot for twice-a-week updates. I don't know how many chapters.....but I'm shooting for 17. It's my lucky number. If needed, I'll go past that.

Reply to comments:

reikanobutushi: *blushes furiously* You fill my comment-iv-drip full! *Huggles you* You are now L and Gertie's baby sitter for in-between chapters!

ElmaLaurette: You had to pick the one character I never really paid any attention to....tell you what, I love my readers...so I'll watch the episodes, read the manga, and do other such Haku-related research, and do 2-3 chapters on it, JUST FOR YOU! How's that?

FluffyDuck-01: I know! I felt so bad, I was thinking "They must think I'm dead!". I hate when someone does an amazing story, then just leaves it there to rot without finishing it. I will never abandon! Whatever happens, I'll beat it out in morse code on a drum, dicating it to the military so they can post it for me!!!! TO BE YOUNG FTW!!!!

Chapter 12: Dear

L was sweating as he stretched a pale hand to the ceiling vent, checking to see if cold air was coming out. There was no air at all. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed the pair of crutches by the door and hobbled down the stairs towards the kitchen, thinking of making himself a pitcher of sweet iced tea for the following day, which was sure to be hotter than the night.

The water in L's pot had just begun to boil when an echoing knock sounded from the front door, immediately followed by a blood-curdling scream and much fussing and ordering about of women's voices. The screams and moans became more frequent, and the voices, much akin to the clucking of chickens, blared through the kitchen door as it opened and one of the maids bustled in, clean towels draped over one arm and carrying a fistful of shiny metal instruments.

"Miss Blackburn, what-?" L spluttered.

"Oh, thank goodness, I don't think she could have waited for the water to boil." the stout woman said in her heavy irish accent. Speaking more to herself than the confused boy next to the stove, Miss Blackburn went on, "Poor girl, I don't think she'll live through the birth, it'll be a miracle if the baby's alright!"

Scooping up the pot by the handle in her already overfull hand, she presented L with a small vial and a syringe in its sterile wrapper, then shuffled back through the swinging door, calling to him over her shoulder.

"Fill that to the ten, hurry up, make yourself useful!" she barked.

Completely baffled, L stumbled after her on a single crutch, following the noise to a small room off the main hall, stopping at the door to fill the syringe, which was immediately snatched up by some other nursemaid. Pausing to look for the source of the commotion, L gasped.

In the middle of the room, covered in blood and thrashing about on the brass bed, a woman recieved the dose L had prepared. almost immediately, her screaming stopped, though she continued to clutch at her knees, breathing heavily and groaning.

"Here it comes, ladies!" cried Miss Blackburn, and a hush fell over the room, punctured by the woman's moans and breathing.

An infant's cry tore through the air, and several nursemaids gasped. The stranger fell back upon the bed, her breast heaving. She clutched at the air for her baby.

After tenderly washing the newborn and wrapping it in a towel, a blonde maid presented the woman with her child.

L stared in shock. The baby was now in full view of everyone in the room. While the mother was dark, with heavy-lidded eyes and black hair, her round face etched with lines of misery, her baby was light, colorless even.

"Wh-what's wrong with it?" the woman croaked. The blonde lady spoke kindly.

"It seems he's an albino, ma'am. But ain't nothin' wrong with him. Just a healthy baby boy."

The new mother closed her eyes, and her breathing became slow and ragged. Recognizing she had only a few moments, Miss Blackburn stepped forward.

"What should you like to name him, miss?" she asked tentatively.

Not bothering to open her eyes, the woman bent to kiss her son on his tiny forehead.

"Nate. Nate River." she whispered. And then she was still.

There was a short silence, which little Nate River saw fit to break. The blonde woman scooped his up, rocking him, then turned to L.

"Would you be a dear and fix him a bottle? The formula's in the cabinet by the fridge."

"Oh, um, yes ma'am!" he said, torn out of his reverie. Limping back to the kitchen on his crutch, L located the can and put two scoops of powder and some water into a clean bottle, shook it, then placed the concoction in the microwave for twenty seconds.

"Oh, good, give it here." sighed Miss Blackburned, returned with newborn Nate in the crook of her arm.

Just as the bottle passed to her fingertips, an urgent voice rang from the hall.

"Mizz B.! The police wants you!"

Rolling her eyes, Miss Blackburn grumbled to herself.

"Can't do nothing for themselves....L, sweetie, I know it's late, but could you feed him? Just hold him like this and be sure he don't choke."

And after postioning the child in his arms, the nursemaid bustled out of the room.

It took a minute for the events of the past hour to sink in. L shook his head, then reached to pull back the bit of blanket covering the infant's face. Unusually quiet... he thought. Other babies had come through Wammy's, though they never stayed for very long, and they were all very loud.

Not sure if he was doing it right, L stuck the nipple of the bottle into Nate's slightly parted lips. It must have been okay, because the ghostly child immediately latched on, sucking as though he had never eaten.

"But I guess you haven't ever eaten. This is your first time, huh? Well, it's my first time holding a baby." L murmered. He stroked the fine white hair, his senses locked on the tiny being in his arms, the bitty sighs, the bashful blinking, everything as new to the dark child as it was to the light.

Finished with the bottle, L placed the child on the table, then walked to the sink to rinse the vessel out. The baby began to cry, far too loud a sound for such a tiny thing to be making. Stumbling on weak legs, L hurried to comfort little nate, scooping him up, rocking him.

"Sssshhhh...hush. I didn't mean to go away. I'm always right here. You'll always be near."