Rated M.

Disclaimer: We don't own the awesome anime or manga known as Death Note. This is an AU that is no way connected to the main plot of the anime or manga. Promise! Cross our hearts, poke a finger in our eyes if ever we tell a lie about this!

Do ya like our little vow?

Eh, time to move on! Hello everyone!

This is a fanfic written between Greenkittenkid4 and myself, plus two other friends who are just random reviewers! They don't want to sign up on fanfic they just wanna be the readers. OMG. I hope they don't regret their decision someday!

We hope that this is a satisfying fanfic and will work really hard on it. Well, we will when we have time and I will try to balance out my work between school and my other fanfics. And when my buds and I can we will update! :^D

Yayz, for updates!

And I know what you're probably thinking.


This is another fanfic where Near is tortured, but then made happy. But as Greenkittenkid says, "Near is just so adorable and helpless looking that he's the perfect character to be subject to past abuse…blah, blah, blah, blah…."

Anywayz, we hope that this will be satisfactory.

I expect lots of reviews. Reviews are my heroin and if I'm deprived I go crazy!

Ha, ha, ha. ;^P

Just kidding!

Smiles everyone! Well, ya don't gotta but it'd be nice if you did.


But seriously reviews are appreciated.

Warnings: Abuse, rape, foul language, painful moments, BB violence and Mello commando action in later chappies!



& Others.

Near lay underneath his bed, whilst his parents continued their enraged fighting.

He felt terrified of what they'd do to him if he were to depart the safe place that was beneath his bed. He always hid there when they fought. They fought a lot…mostly about him. Near was considered to be abnormal, not just because he was an albino with dark gray colored eyes, but because of his white, cat-like ears and tail. According to some genetic specialist there was only a one and one half percent chance that anyone would be born with animal-like ears or an animal-like tail. Sadly, poor, little Near was in that one and one half percent category. He wasn't permitted to leave his house...ever.

One time when he was very young he tried, but he was punished as a result. His punishment came in the form of a good thrashing, then being locked in his room for three days without any food. He was an innocent boy then who didn't expect to be mistreated so harshly, but accepted it as a thing parents did to their children, but he grew and learned from reading books that his parents were not like other parents. They were abusive. Sometimes the thing he longed for the most was to step outside his house, but was too frightened for he knew it was forbidden, therefore he didn't try.

He wasn't ignorant to the world outside the old house however. All he actually knew was that there was a sky, grass, trees, undergrowth, bushes, moss, flowers and different kinds of animals. Knowing that he reasoned that if there was no world beyond his house then, they would not exist, but they did, so unquestionably there was more than just his house and what he saw outside a window. Near was a brilliant boy for his age of nine years.

But his parents didn't think about that.

They wanted him to be ordinary like other offspring.

And so his dear parents hammered the lesson into him. Beating after beating. It was mostly his father who would beat him physically, but his mother worked on his emotions. She didn't always do it on purpose, but she harmed him on an emotional level. He didn't like it, but knew of no other existence than the one he led.

So Near would hide beneath his bed in his tiny, cramped room hoping that someday he'd get to meet interesting, intelligent people and escape from all the abuse. He did not know how, for he made no plans to leave his parents and his house. They were all he knew and they were all that kept him there. Near wasn't the suicidal type, but he silently regretted existing as he did and sometimes, when he was hurting real bad from a beating or when his chest had a strange pain that he couldn't bear, he wished to no longer exist in that life.

Near was stirred from sleep one morning, hearing a scream of agony a few hours after one in the morning. Near dared to crawl out from his hiding place. He peeked out of his bedroom door and stared down the hall timidly. He didn't want to get struck for leaving his room, but he didn't want to stay curious for the rest of the day. His room was the only room beside the staircase, which led to his parents' room and other rooms, which were upstairs. He heard someone tread heavily down the stairs cursing at the top of their unkind, rough tone.

Near knew that it was his father.

The man was always stomping about cursing or complaining, showing no gratitude for what he had in almost every possible way. He was violent half the time and he despised his family. He didn't want his son in the first place. Near had heard him saying that if it hadn't been for his drinking obsession in high school then he'd have never met his wife and they'd have never slept together and produced their offspring, which he had insisted aborting from the beginning, but unlike him his wife had strong morals and a few standards, which led to their marriage and son, both of which the man did not love in any way.

Near wasn't stupid and could without a doubt see that his father hated him, because of his ears and tail. Maybe, his father just hated him for living, which was something that wasn't his fault. He knew that his father hated his mother because she tried to care about her son she tried to be affectionate to him, sometimes.

She wasn't very good at it though.

She had a tendency to take no notice of her child for three to four days at a time. She also had a tendency to slap or snap at him for no reason. Sometimes she would insult him and the words hurt as much as any beating would have. The poor child barely knew that a mother could be loving. With her husband's violent nature and heartless way of thinking Near's mother tried not to get in his way. She would run off when he was wanting to beat someone and would not think of her son's well being when she fled her husband's wrath.

Near was always too afraid to ask for anything, so he'd sometimes go hungry for two or three days at a time, unless he managed to grab something to eat while they were asleep. It wasn't an exceedingly reputable way to run things, especially a family. Near was used to it, though, and so were his parents. And now he had to do something he wasn't used to.

He had to go up to his parents' room to prove and see if his mother was okay. His mother who gave birth to him, his mother who didn't feel anything for him because of her revulsion towards his abnormal features, his mother who let him experience his father's fury when he was drunk or enraged, his mother…his mother…his mother who took care of him until he was two years of age, before abandoning him.

He remembered that she had cared for him once. He knew she wasn't always such a bad mother, but still felt an extreme dislike for her. It wasn't his choice to feel that way, but he did. He disliked his mother with all his heart. Yet he couldn't help, but feel worried.

Near looked at the stairs nervously feeling his ears twitch. Hearing his father in the kitchen throwing and breaking things Near swallowed apprehensive of what he'd find in his parents' room. But he was more frightened of what his father would do to him if he caught him. His father had always threatened and did beat his wife and had mercilesslybeaten Near half to death on one occasion.

Near was five years old. He was as innocent as any small child. He was also just as curious. He asked his father if he loved his family and without warning Near was struck until he started to cry. He bled from his mouth and nose. His mother stood by and watched unsympathetically as her husband physically abused their son. That was the day Near learned that questions such as what he'd asked weren't allowed to be asked openly in his family. The answers to those sort of questions were to be revealed through observation. Near was most certain that a beating was the worst thing that his father could do to him. He was so sure because of how much it hurt. Nothing had ever hurt him more than a physical beating, well, his emotional pain hurt more, but that was different. It wasn't at all physical.

Shuffling up the stairs he entered his parents' room, which was the first room to the right once you got to the top step. Their room was much bigger than Near's and it was where they almost always fought and argued and threatened each other. There was not any tenderness or adoration whatsoever.

The door to the room was open; all he had to do was walk in. Near thought it was, at first out of the ordinary that the curtains were pulled. The room was dimly lit, but the light was still good enough that he could see. His large, gray eyes settled on a motionless figure, which was lying flat on the floor beside the bed. He instantly recognized the unmoving figure as his mother who had always been rather jittery and uptight.

Near had never seen her so still in his life.

His mother's gorgeous albino hair was messy, not brushed and neat like it usually was. Her white hair was splotched a crimson red much like her face was. Her cute pink cotton candy colored eyes were wide open in terror however they weren't as dazzling a pink as they had been; they were glassy and lifeless. Her garments were also discolored red and to some extent frayed. A blood-spattered knife had been discarded close to her body.

She wasn't breathing or moving….

Near felt anxiety and trepidation grip his strength of mind as he realized what had occurred. He'd only read about death and murder in books. He'd never dreamt, let alone wanted to see a corpse, his mother's corpse. But there he was, a nine-year-old boy staring at his mother's corpse and slowly piecing together what had happened in his young, supple, one might even say agile mind. After all the threats, all the loathing his father had murdered his mother in his fit of rage. He wasn't surprised, but he was afraid.

Near trembled as he wondered if he was next.

Murderers tended to kill more than once; the young child knew that as a rational fact.

A firm hand, suddenly, took hold of his white locks causing him to squeal in pain. He felt his tail droop down and his ears laid flat on his head. Tears stung his eyes as he was forced back out of the room. He didn't know why but he started crying and screaming. It wasn't a rational choice, it wasn't going to help him, and yet he screamed and cried like it would. Near was shoved down the stairs without any hesitation on his attacker's behalf.

Is this the end? He wondered before he felt pain.