Well, it's been a long while since I've written anything, so I hope you enjoy the story. ^^

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, but I do own my OC!

The italics are from the father's letter, just to clear up any confusion.

Prologue

Vibrations coursed through cold metal, reverberating into the faded wood beneath it, causing the noise to amplify. The sound was harsh yet rhythmic, like a clockwork heartbeat that could never hold the warmth and comfort of a heart filled with blood and life. It was a strong pulse, considering it caused quite the raucous in the silent room, yet despite this it was weak, not moving its surroundings let alone its container. This was a relatively insignificant occurrence, yet keen ears noticed its existence, icy blue eyes locking onto the source.

A wave of fond memory and a feeling of friendship washed over a perplexed mind as a porcelain hand grasped the pulsing metal, faded pink lips pressing together in curiosity. Of all the people…

"L?" A gentle voice wondered aloud after answering the call, ice blue absentmindedly scanning the hotel room with its pristine white walls and linens, noting a few possessions that still needed to be packed back up before they would be unpacked again in their temporary home. "I'll be there in a little, okay? Sorry, I guess I'm running a bit late, huh?"

"Oh no, take your time," A monotone voice with just the smallest hint of animation filtered through the phone, familiar still after all these years. "I wasn't contacting you about that. I want to reiterate some truths that you must understand before you can begin working with us; I'm sure you can understand my concerns."

"I told you, L, I'm perfectly fine with doing this." A pale hand ran through blood red hair in exasperation, pointed feet beginning to pace across the soft carpet impatiently. "Yes, I know I could die. Yes, I know I'll be working endlessly. Yes, I know all of the repercussions and consequences of my decision, so please, don't worry so much. You're the one that asked me to help with the investigation, after all."

"Very well then, as long as you're prepared for this." There was a slight pause, but it spoke volumes of what he was thinking. He was having second thoughts. He was almost worried. "It's good to be working with you again; it's been a long while."

A small smile bloomed like a spring flower, radiant despite its little stature. Emotionless even when he's happy, did that man's voice ever change anymore? "It has been. I'll see you soon."

The phone returned to its original position on the table as its owner flitted about the room, not quite focusing on actions as much as thoughts. Not much had been taken out of the suitcase the night prior, so the process of getting ready to leave took no amount of brainpower, leaving an excited mind time to wander. The idea of seeing L again, the details of the investigation, yet without meaning to, happy thoughts transitioned into worry, slipping into darker corners that never saw light like the image of friends dying and a secret that clung to an innocent back like a toddler to its mother's leg. A secret that created a constant unsettling feeling like black slime oozing and slithering its way down bare skin.

A breath was held as a mirror was passed on the way to the door, causing tired feet to pause and shift. Ice chips focused on an image in contempt, staring into the cold look reflected back along with the rest of the horror associated with its physical appearance. Despite being used to seeing this, the blood within the real body burned yet froze every time.

She was Destirome DeCrez—a hidden monster.

Sure, everyone else saw her how she had seen herself, many years ago. A normal human, just a small, pale girl that was just a bit different from the rest of the world, yet without knowing just what it was that made her apart from the others. Maybe it was her blood red hair that was oddly enough natural, framing her porcelain skin with gentle waves that cascaded down just below her strong shoulders. Perhaps it was her ice blue eyes that seemed to pierce through everything and everybody no matter how gentle or how harsh they were at the time. Maybe it was her many eccentricities that made her seem a bit too different from everyone around her. Perhaps it could even be the oval scars on her back, as if she had been born with wings, but they had been cut off and the stubs had been crudely burned.

Or maybe her wings were still there.

What if her wings, black yet tattered, still remained on her back? What if ebony horns, short yet pointed, sprouted from her head as if she were a demon? What if faded white linen was wound around her arms, suggesting the start of her mummification as if she were dead? And what if her hands looked like they had been crudely attached to her forearms with thick metal staples embedded in her skin like sadistic patchwork?

That's what she saw, anyway. That's what her true form was. The nightmare began when she had touched her father's black notebook. Her own personal hell of seeing the true monster she was, buried in the images of names and lifespans everywhere she looked, realizing with a creeping horror as she read a letter within the notebook just where her mother was, what her father had been and done, and what that made her.

Half Shinigami.

I loved her.

Watching her from the Shinigami realm every day, dreaming of one day meeting her. I admired her courage through all of her adversities. I adored her pale, blind eyes that seemed to pierce through a person's very soul. I smiled each and every time I heard her vibrant, Sunday flower laugh, as if it bloomed everywhere in the deepest crevices of my heart like a weed with the sweetest of blessings. Your mother was truly a captivating person, and she would have been a wonderful lover to any man of her choice.

But I was selfish. And I wanted her.

So I learned her written language, translating the instructions of my Death Note into braille, and I went to the human world.

And there she was—Eliane DeCrez. Your mother was even more breathtaking in person. Wind blew around her dark brown hair as she sat in her favorite park, reading a book with her hand delicately tracing over each set of bumps on the page, her head up, enjoying the sun on her face. She was always such a carefree woman. I'm sure she would have loved to play with you in that park.

I knew despite her angelic and defenseless look, she had the heart of a warrior, and a mind filled with vengeance. All of those people that bullied her, the thieves, the con-men, the rude and distasteful people that only picked on her because they were too ignorant to understand her, all because they were curious beings that tested the limits of what they would never experience. She was a kind being, but given the power to punish them, she would without hesitation.

I wanted to protect her, so very much. I wanted to give her my power so she would be able to end her suffering. So I knocked the book out of her hands, and I picked it up from the ground to replace it with my Death Note.

Her unseeing eyes flashed with annoyance, assuming someone had passed by and decided it would be funny to torment her. A small sigh passed her lips as she bent over, feeling around the lush grass until her hand touched a book that didn't quite feel like hers. Curiously, she opened it, and to her surprise, she felt words as she passed her hand over it, but it wasn't the words she had been reading at all. No, it was something much more…

I remember feeling so nervous, I wasn't sure what she would do in reaction to the new book or to me being around. I still remember choking out, "Hello, Eliane. I am Sevren". Of course, I was too blinded by my love for her to really consider the consequences of any of my actions.

And so it began. Her curiosity to try to kill someone eventually rid her of all of her antagonists as she used her slate and stylus to write names in that unique way she always did. No matter the language, the Death Note understood.

We became close. She assumed I was her guardian angel; I guided her and helped her through everyday tasks, I always cared for her and was always a friend to her. I wanted to do anything I could for her.

That's why she fell in love with me as I had for her. She told me I was her friend, her mentor, her protector, her guide, her partner. She knew that I wasn't human, she had felt my skin before and could tell with certainty that I was nothing like her, but something so trivial hadn't mattered to her—I remember what she used to always tell me. "You still have a soul and a heart like a human. You're here, you're real, and you love me. And I love you. That's all that matters, Sevren."

Destirome, I hope when you're old enough, you'll find someone to love. They don't have to be perfect, but I hope that you both will accept and love each other past any and all flaws that you both have. You should make each other happy, and fight against anything that tries to separate you two. I want you two to be best friends just as much as you are lovers. I want you to have a connection with them that is beyond anything you've ever had. Most of all, I just want you to live a long and happy life together, and enjoy every moment of life you have. Tend to your relationships well, and they'll bloom more than you ever thought they could. You reap what you sow, after all.

My days with your mother were the best of my long, long life. But I could still see her lifespan, and her day to die was coming soon. I was too distracted by my happiness with her in the present to wonder what would kill her in the future.

I was happy, for once in my life. I wasn't about to let anything ruin it. But nothing lasts forever, Destirome. Nothing.